Eye of the Storm
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This is an AU story starting during the finale of season six. It explores the history that Castle had working with the CIA and how he is pulled in again, along with Kate. This is not a secret agent story just using the Castle name. He and Kate are very much Caskett, and they did manage to get married. Cover art by @Artifex Prime.
1. Chapter 1

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 1

"Gray, you've got to be kidding me!" Castle exclaimed. "A mission on my honeymoon? Except for almost being killed by Sofia, I haven't done anything for you guys except to keep my eyes and ears open since my daughter was born. Although I must admit, it is amazing how much some of Putin's pals can spill after too much good Champagne. Those oligarchs seem to think that if it isn't vodka, they can handle it."

"And you've gathered some great intelligence that way, Rick. That's why we're asking you to do this. It won't break up your honeymoon. There are a couple of major supporters of ISIL in the Maldives."

"How did you find out we were going to the Maldives? Never mind. For an agency that's not supposed to spy on American citizens, I know you always have your ear to the ground."

"Which is why we use sharp observers like spy novelists, Rick. The people we want you to get an in with, make a show of understanding and degrading western culture. They would love to spend some time with a best-selling author and his beautiful bride if for nothing else than to run their mouths to their buddies about how decadent Americans are."

"I enjoy being decadent, Gray, especially when good scotch and chocolate are involved."

"Just my point, Rick. They'll want to get to know you, just so they can condemn you. They're staying on a yacht anchored not far from the private island where you and Kate will be. We'll drop a few breadcrumbs that you'll be there. You'll get an invitation to visit. I can almost guarantee it. You'll have a good time. Their chef makes a baklava that is to die for."

"How do you know…? Oh, forget it. I should be used to your universal antennae by now. All right, drop your breadcrumbs. If Kate and I get invited to a yacht party, I'll try to convince her that we should go."

* * *

"You want to accept an invitation to a party, Castle?" Kate queried. "I thought this trip was supposed to be for three weeks of strictly you and me."

"Kate, we won't be going to the party to party. That is infinitely more pleasurable when the company is limited to the two of us. Duty calls."

"Babe, what are you talking about?"

"Kate you know I worked with the CIA."

"I thought that all ended when Sofia Turner broke up with you. I think she was either lying or just out of her mind, but she told me that once the two of you had slept together, there was nothing left between you, and you drifted apart."

"More like she pushed me away. One night I heard her talking to someone on the phone - in Russian. When I asked her about it, she told me that she learned Russian as part of her job and she was getting intel from a source close to the Kremlin. After that, she iced up and our affair ended. I didn't understand it at the time, but after we found out she was a sleeper agent, it all made sense. She was afraid I'd figure out what she really was if we stayed together. But I've always had contacts at the agency. You know that too. Book tours are a great excuse to traverse the world, that's why I was recruited; that and perhaps a word or two from my father. But as far as I can tell, he wasn't read in on anything I did. The company gets information from all kinds of travelers who can move around without suspicion - like the actor from 'Too Cool for School.' For the past 18 years, with that one almost fatal exception, a little listening is all I've been doing for them."

"Because you had to take care of Alexis."

"Which has been my greatest joy - at least until I found you. Look, Kate, we can spend a few hours doing service for our country. While we're at it, we might even have some fun."

* * *

The Arabian sea was calm, and the yacht was luxurious, if too ornate for Kate's or even Castle's sensibilities. There was gold everywhere, even the heads. The refreshments were served by women who were silent and veiled. In the interests of accommodating the local culture, Kate wore a scarf over her hair. In any case, she'd been spending too much time in bed for it to be remotely manageable without a heavy conditioning. That hadn't been a problem for Castle. The visual evidence of their intimacy only made her sexier to him, but it would have taken some work to produce a coif presentable to the outside world, so showing respect for her host's traditions just made her life easier.

Castle wore the tuxedo he'd shed for their first chance at lovemaking after the wedding. Kate couldn't help thinking that it fit the Bondian aspects of his mission aboard the yacht. He seemed to be slipping back into his old role. His mingling and joking with the other passengers looked effortless. He was even throwing in a few words of Arabic. Up to that point, she had no idea that he knew any. He'd told her that there were things about his time with the CIA that he hadn't been allowed to reveal, but she was beginning to get an inkling about just how many secrets he'd had to keep.

Kate noted the slight stiffening of his shoulders that she'd learned meant that he was paying attention to something, something threatening. But his smile remained broad, and she wondered if she was imagining things. Castle approached her with two plates of honey-drenched pastry and offered her one. "Kate, you've got to try this! It's incredible!"

He dropped down in a deck chair beside her and leaned in as if to share a private joke. "Kate, I think there are chemical weapons on this boat."

"Castle, are you sure?"

"No, I'm not, but I caught a snatch of Arabic for 'dog collar.' I heard it before, a long time ago. That's what they used to call a kind of nerve gas because it is produced in almost exactly the same way as the insecticide used in flea collars. And see the guy in the raw silk suit? He was pointing below deck when he said it. So, unless there's a puppy down there…"

"Castle, are you going to report this to your contact?"

"I'd rather be sure first, Kate. How would you feel about putting on a little show that would convince this crowd we have an overwhelming need to find some privacy? We might at least be able to grab a quick look around. If we don't see anything, I'll just pass on the couple of words I heard, and we can continue with enjoying our honeymoon as a party of two." Castle caressed her cheek. "And I've been wanting to kiss you since we got here."

"Yeah, me too," Kate admitted. "Let's just not do anything suspicious."

Castle swept her up in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. "For oversexed American newlyweds, nothing suspicious about this at all," Castle whispered. He carried her to a staircase leading downward and loudly declared, "My kingdom for a bed!"

After descending the stairs, Rick and Kate peeked at every doorway. Castle pointed to a compartment at the end of the hallway, sealed by a solid metal door surrounded by an airtight gasket. "If I wanted to secure something, that's where it would be. Whoa, I hear someone coming." Castle pulled Kate against him, flipping up her scarf to draw the flesh on her neck beneath it into his mouth.

Kate heard the nasal tones of their host. "I would have thought you'd have found a more comfortable place to do that. The guest cabin was open."

Rick and Kate turned to see a gun muzzle pointed at them.


	2. Chapter 2

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 2

Castle threw his arms up above his head as he stepped in front of Kate. "Chill out, Yousuf. We would have gotten there, but the lady likes a little rough stuff before - if you know what I mean. All that cop training. A hard surface is a turn on for her. This door looked like the hardest place on the ship."

"Nice story," Yousuf sneered, "but then making up stories is your trade, isn't it Castle?"

"No story, Yousuf. Kate and I are on our honeymoon."

"Very well then" Yousef agreed, making no move to lower his weapon. "If that's what you were doing, show me. You write thinly disguised recountings of your sexual pleasures in your books. Surely you won't mind an audience."

"If you want porn, there's plenty of it on the internet," Castle returned. "I could even show you my favorite websites. Or doesn't this tub have Wi-Fi?"

Yousef gestured with his pistol. "I prefer live action."

Kate stepped from behind Rick. "It's all right, Babe. It could be fun. I'm getting hot just thinking about it."

Oil dripped from Yousuf's smile. "Your wife has more balls than you do, Castle. But you two should have more space if you're going to get to it. You want hard? The floor of the guest cabin should do nicely."

Yousef gestured with his pistol toward a door down the hall, urging Kate and Rick to walk in front of him. Kate made a show of snapping her teeth at Castle's ear and whispered. "Play along."

The moment they were ushered into an opulent chamber, Kate pulled off Castle's jacket and grabbed at his suspenders. As she tugged at his cummerbund, he tore at the front of her dress, the tiny buttons that secured it flying off and pinging against the furniture and the bulkhead. Kate jerked Castle's shirt off, raking her nails over his back, before shoving his pants down his legs and kicking them away. Castle pushed her to the floor and sucked the tender skin of her breast into his mouth as he covered her. Kate screamed and arched against him, her scarf slipping away.

Castle tangled his fingers in her hair, his tongue forcing its way between her lips. Her fingers dug into his buttocks as her legs rose high, encircling his back and drawing him deep inside her. They rolled, thrusting and panting. Kate's cry echoed throughout the lower deck as their bodies jerked, wrenching them apart. Sweat-covered and breathless, they lay on a deck still warm from the heat of their coupling. Kate heard the sound of Yousuf's zipper being refastened as he left the room.

Rick gently kissed a circle of red that marred Kate's pale skin. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, Castle. Just creeped out. That perv was jacking off while he was watching us. How about you?"

"I may have a couple of bruises. Good thing your nails aren't longer, or I'd be dripping blood. Your dress will never be the same."

"Neither will your tuxedo."

"Let's put on what clothes we have left and see if Yousuf'll let us off this bucket," Castle proposed.

"With you on that, Babe."

* * *

Castle slammed down the scrambled phone Gray had provided before Rick and Kate had embarked on their journey. "Sonofabitches at the company suspected that Yousuf's yacht might be carrying WMD's all along. They were just looking for some kind of confirmation. They'll be tracking it from now on."

"So, we're done?" Kate asked. "Did he at least say thank you?"

"He said our country thanks us for our service."

Kate shook her head. "I'm not sure how to take that. At least we didn't end up nearly drowning this time. But I'm not sure I want to stay on this island for the rest of our honeymoon either. I don't suppose you could get us a last-minute booking, maybe in Hawaii or the Caribbean somewhere?"

"If that's what you want, I'll see what I, or the concierge for my Titanium Card, can do," Castle agreed.

* * *

"Kate, are you ready to go?" Castle called, reaching for the two largest suitcases.

Kate strode in from the bedroom of their guest house. "Just making a final check. When do we have to be at the dock?"

"Ten minutes from now, but it's only a five-minute walk, even carrying our bags. The skiff will take us to the harbor in Malé. From there we can pick up a limo to the airport. We'll stop off in Mumbai and then on to the big island. We have a bungalow on the beach."

"Sounds great, Castle."

Before Kate and Rick reached their boat, two men with Sig Sauers broke from the thick foliage that lined the path to the water. "Yousuf wants a return engagement."

Kate and Rick were herded onto a transport like the one that had brought them to the yacht the day before. Nudged by gun barrels up the gangplank, they were taken to the lower level and secured with leather straps to chairs bolted to the deck. Yousuf ran the tips of his fingers through his salt and pepper beard. "I made some inquiries. It seems, Rick, that writing books has not been your only endeavor."

"I do help Kate solve murders," Castle replied.

"I was referring to your more clandestine activities. I have a source that tells me that you have been transmitting information to your country's intelligence service. And the phone that my people found in your luggage confirms it. Now I need to know exactly what you told them."

"Well, is that all?" Castle asked. "I could have saved you the trouble of this little interrogation. I told them nothing. There wasn't anything to tell, except maybe that you like to watch. And that's not the sort of thing that interests them. They do too much of that kind of slimy surveillance themselves."

"Then what were you looking for yesterday?"

"I not only told you, I believe you enjoyed our demonstration."

"Perhaps you are telling me the truth, perhaps not," Yousuf considered. "I will find out. In most circumstances like this, I would just inflict agony on your wife until I was sure that you'd told me everything I need to know. But after what I saw yesterday, I'm not at all certain that would be a successful strategy. So, we will go with time-honored methods of obtaining information. Neither one of you will sleep, eat, drink or move from your chairs until I am sure I have extracted everything I need to know from you. This yacht will reach its destination in four days. It only takes three to die of thirst." Yousuf pushed a button on a thermostat attached to the bulkhead. "I just turned off the air conditioning for this cabin. It's going to be warm today - very warm. Consider your options carefully. You might want to talk it out. You may not even have three days."

Yousuf left the cabin, leaving one of his gunman outside the door and locking it behind him. Kate turned to Rick. "Babe, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Castle answered, "but I do know one thing. Whether we tell him anything or not, Yousuf has no intention of letting us leave this boat alive. The longer we hold out, the longer we survive." Castle inclined his head toward his arm. "I have a transponder under my skin. It won't set off a scanner because it only transmits when it's activated from a distance. That's twice a day, at sunrise and midnight. Sunrise is long gone, but at midnight the company will know we've been taken. The question is whether they'll do anything about it, or we're considered expendable."


	3. Chapter 3

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 3

Alexis frowned at her phone. "What's the matter?" Martha asked.

"Dad was supposed to send me some pictures from Mumbai. They aren't here, and he's not answering his phone."

"Well, perhaps he'll send them later. He and Katherine are on their honeymoon."

"I know, but I told Buttons Dutton I'd have them for a school project today. Dad knows that. He wouldn't forget. He never forgets things like that."

Martha's brow furrowed. "He and Katherine should be on a plane to Hawaii by now. Katherine talks to him on his tablet when he's flying. Do you know how to do that?"

"Of course, Gram." Alexis made a few swipes on her cell and stared at the screen. "Nothing! I'm not even making a connection."

Martha put her arm around her granddaughter. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. You can try again in a little while. Why don't you get started on breakfast? I need to check something upstairs."

Martha shut the door of her room behind her and pulled a cellphone from beneath a pile of silk scarves in the drawer of her dresser. She thumbed an icon. "Martha, what's wrong?" the voice on the other end queried.

"Jack, I'm afraid Richard is in trouble."

* * *

The heat in the close quarters of the cabin was oppressive, and the lights shone brightly in Kate's and Rick's eyes. Castle had no idea how much time had gone by. Hunger had passed, but his lips were dry. He wished he could see Kate, but the glare obscured her. He heard the door open. "Castle," Yousuf intoned, "all this ends for you and your wife when you tell me what you told your handler."

"I'm sure it will end," Castle thought to himself, "but not the way he's implying."

"Nothing to say?' Yousuf prompted.

"I'll say you're a perverted sonofabitch," Kate rasped. "Sure you don't want to take these straps off and watch again? Castle is endlessly creative."

"Your wife is still the brave one, Castle," Yousuf taunted. "She won't be brave much longer. The captain tells me we are expecting some rough seas. Your situation is about to get even less comfortable."

"That's nothing," Castle retorted. "Kate and I rode the Cyclone six times. A few waves will be a walk in the park."

Yousuf smirked. "We shall see."

* * *

"Jeanie, you need to send an extraction team," Jackson argued.

"We can't do that, Hunt," Director Haspel," declared. "We would be tipping the enemy off that we can track the yacht and acknowledging that Castle is an asset. I'm sorry, but the scenario will have to play out. We need to locate the cell where those weapons are being delivered. If we interrupt the operation now, we lose the whole nest. In the end, that will cost more than two lives. But your son is smart, as is Kate Beckett. They may find a way off that yacht. We can hope for the best."

"And when has the best ever happened?" Hunt threw back, stalking from the command center. He'd have to pull in a lot of favors, but he would get aboard the next military transport headed in the direction the yacht was sailing.

* * *

"Castle," Kate whispered hoarsely, "are you still with me?"

"Where would I go?" Castle inquired.

"Listen, I tensed my muscles when my straps were fastened, so Yousuf's thug couldn't make them tight. And with my sweat and the heat, I've been able to loosen them more. I think I might be able to get my hands free. When the guard comes in to check on us, can you pretend that you've managed to doze off? When he leans in to wake you up, I'll grab his gun."

"You want me to snore?" Castle quipped.

"Whatever it takes, Babe. Just make sure you hold his attention."

The minutes dragged until Kate heard the door open. She could barely make out the silhouette of their captor, but she could see a fuzzy reflection from the weapon she knew was on his hip. A convincing rattle emerged from Castle's throat. " _Asbaha_!" the guard shouted, slapping Castle across the face.

Kate pulled her hands loose and grabbed, feeling the hard metal in her hand. She cocked it by feel and shoved it in the guard's side. "Let us go, or you're dead!"

"Foolish woman," the guard taunted. "You will never get off this boat alive. And if you did, where would you go? There is nothing around us but ocean."

"Just release him," Kate insisted.

The guard shrugged and unbuckled the straps restraining Castle. "You will only die that much sooner."

Kate used the butt of the gun to knock out the guard and felt for the switches to turn down the lights and turn the air conditioning back on. "It's amazing how I can be so thirsty and really need to pee at the same time," Castle observed.

"That makes two of us," Kate agreed. "When we were brought in, I saw an attached bathroom. I think I can find it. The water might help our eyes get back to normal too."

"I hope so," Castle said. "We're never going to be able to find our way off this boat if we have to do it by braille."

"I figure we can use a lifeboat to get away from here," Kate said. "I saw a placard for one when we were brought aboard."

"I saw it too. From the lack of light coming in the porthole, I'm thinking it's still night. There shouldn't be too many people up and around on the upper deck."

Kate grasped the guard's gun more tightly. "If there are, we can deal with them."

Feeling slightly refreshed by the relief garnered from the downsized but elegant facilities, Kate and Rick made their way up the stairs as silently as they could. As far as they could tell, the deck was deserted. Castle pointed in the direction where the lifeboat was stowed, and together they dragged the heavy rubber dinghy from the locker where it was stored. Castle winced at the sound of its inflation, but no one came to investigate. Aided by the beams from flashlights that had been stashed with the tiny craft, Rick and Kate managed to launch it into the water and lower themselves aboard.

"Babe you're the one who loves to look at the stars," Kate said. "Can you tell which direction we're headed?"

Rick rubbed his eyes. "I can't see well enough yet, but let's get away from the yacht as fast as we can. If I can't get a fix from the stars, we'll at least know where east is when the sun rises. We'll need to go in the opposite direction to get anywhere close to land. But the way the islands are spread out, we'll still have to be lucky to find any."

"If someone on our side is searching for us, can they home in on your transponder?" Kate asked.

"Only if they send out the right signal. And Kate, they'd have to be looking. We have no way of knowing if anyone is."

Kate checked the pouch of provisions that was attached inside the dinghy. "Looks like we have at least a couple of days of food and water if we're careful."

Castle wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair. "That's better than we were doing on Yousuf's yacht."


	4. Chapter 4

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 4

Drowsing in Castle's arms, Kate awoke to the first light of dawn. She nudged Rick. "Babe, the sun is coming up."

Castle shifted to stare over his shoulder. "At least we weren't going totally in the wrong direction, but we're going to want to grab the oars to adjust. Depending on which way the current is flowing, we may need to keep paddling. I don't like the look of the sunrise, though. "Red at morn, sailors take warn. And given what Yousuf said about expecting rough seas, we could be in for it."

"Shouldn't there be a transmission powering your transponder now?" Kate asked.

"Uh huh, if anyone cares. But if the agency does, it'll know we're no longer on Yousuf's yacht. That and luck are the best chance we have of coming out of this alive. Anything in the provisions that might pass as breakfast?"

"I'm not sure," Kate said. "The water is easy enough to see, but what's in the pouches is labeled in Arabic, and there aren't any pictures. Can you read Arabic?"

"No, I just picked up a few things in my travels over the years. Looks like we'll have a few mystery meals."

Kate rifled through the packets. "A few is all we have."

* * *

Jackson Hunt viewed the darkening skies. Between a transponder signal and a satellite image, He'd managed to pinpoint Richard's location. There were two heat signatures. He hoped the second one was Kate. The size of the image showed a small craft, easily swamped. If they hit more than the edge of the storm coming their way, they could be in deep trouble. And they weren't even close to making landfall. He needed to reach them in time, but it wouldn't be easy. His mission was unsanctioned, meaning he couldn't requisition a helicopter through official channels. Fortunately, there were unofficial channels. He just hoped he could use them before his son ran out of time.

Hunt picked up his satellite phone, putting in a number and a code. "Jackson, long time no hear," a female voice responded.

"Fortunes of war, Rifka. I've been busy, but I'm sure the way you keep your ear to the ground, you're aware of that. You remember my son Richard?"

"Ah, the crafter of titillating fantasies and Sofia Turner's unfortunate conquest. I'd heard he was on strictly observer status. He seems to be having better luck of late. His recent marriage to that detective muse of his trended on Twitter all over the world."

"His luck may be running out. Looks like he was caught making the wrong observations. He and his wife are at sea with a storm approaching, and unlike my son, I don't deal in metaphors. I need a rescue craft, and I needed it a few hours ago."

"You don't ask for small favors, do you, Jackson?"

"Rifka, you owe me. That time in Lebanon…"

"Yes, I know Jackson. Although I thought the aftermath was lovely for both of us, I'll see what I can do. Call me back in half an hour."

* * *

As the wind picked up strength, Rick and Kate were soon drenched by the spray. With clouds obscuring the sun, they'd lost their navigation point and had to tie down their oars to avoid losing them. They huddled together under a plastic poncho they'd found stowed with the other supplies. Castle wished that he'd never tried to have anything, even a bar of nutty but questionable composition, for a minimal morning meal. If he gave in and allowed it to find an upward exit, even leaning over the side, it would whip back in his face, or worse, land on Kate. "I had a crossing on the ferry from Santa Catalina to Long Beach like this, once. The boat was trying to beat a storm and didn't make it. The crew ran out of barf bags to give the passengers. Much as I love that pearl of an island, I've never been so glad to see land. I wish we saw some now."

"Do you hear that?" Kate asked.

Castle strained to catch any sound besides the whipping of the wind. "Sounds like a helicopter. Yousuf and his minions wouldn't have had access to one on his yacht, and it was sailing in the other direction." The craft hovered above them as a rescue basket dropped.

The rescuers bore no insignia on their gear, and spoke English, mostly with an accent that sounded Indian or Pakistani. But Castle thought he detected a hint of one that seemed more like Israeli, from a red-headed woman who appeared to be directing the operation. "Someone will be glad to see both of you," she told Castle.

Kate and Rick were deposited on what looked like a camouflaged base on a nearby island. Kate immediately recognized the tall white-haired figure who came to meet them as her father-in-law. Jackson embraced Rick and Kate. "Hell of a mess you two got yourselves into."

"Thanks for the rescue," Castle said, "I wasn't sure the company would send anyone."

"They didn't," Jackson admitted. "They were willing to hang you out to dry. I took a page from your book and went rogue."

"How much trouble are you in? Kate asked.

"Not much." He nodded at the red-headed woman. "Rifka and I are old friends. Officially this base doesn't exist, and neither did this operation. Somehow the two of you managed to row in this direction and were thrown on shore by the storm. You were rescued by some locals who will contact the authorities to arrange your transportation back to the states. Weren't you headed for Hawaii? Nice little place on the beach?"

Castle's mouth opened. "How? Never mind. I should be used to this by now. I don't suppose you have any dry clothes around here?"

"We do," Rifka said. "Kate, I think some of my things might fit you. How about a hot shower and a hot meal?"

Kate sighed and closed her eyes. "Sounds like heaven."

* * *

Yousuf watched the storm on radar. He did not doubt that Richard Castle and Kate Beckett would perish in its churning bands. He wished that he'd managed to find out whatever Castle had transmitted to American Intelligence. Almost as much, he regretted not taking pictures while Castle and his hellcat had allowed him to satisfy himself. Castle had of course been right about pornography sites; they were plentiful and though not quite as rewarding, served his purposes. But where he was heading, the most pleasurable transmissions were blocked, except of course to those at the top. Their appetites, including those for destruction, were indulged and never questioned. Considering the gift he was bringing, Yousuf just wished they'd share a little. His yacht would be reaching its destination soon. If he wanted to enjoy himself before it arrived, he'd have to hurry.

* * *

Director Haspel scanned through the scant information her senior analyst had given her. The storm had interfered with tracking the yacht carrying the nerve agent. The boat couldn't make much more than 100 nautical miles per day. Even with maximum fuel supplies, its range would be 500 miles or less. From the tracking they had, it wasn't going to either Sri Lanka or an Indian port. It had to be headed for one of the more far-flung islands, but with over 1,100 islands in the Maldives, many uninhabited, that left a lot of possibilities. She was beginning to wish she'd sent a team after Castle and Beckett. It was possible that they'd overheard something, anything, that might help the company find ISIL's weapons stash. It was too late now. She'd have to hold on to the thinnest of hopes - that they'd escaped and survived somehow and would contact the agency.


	5. Chapter 5

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 5

"I don't know how your father managed to get passports for us so fast," Kate commented, thumbing through the little blue book. He even got the stamps of where I've been, right."

"Mine too," Castle agreed. "And he got all the contacts and alerts right on my new phone and got me new credit cards too. It's scary what he can do, but it was good to be able to let Alexis and Mother know we were all right and on our way to honeymoon 2.0. I've found out over the years that the company has shops to do that sort of thing all over the world. And as long as they didn't have to save our asses themselves, I guess they want to hold on to me as a source."

Are you going along with that?" Kate asked. "They weren't exactly straightforward with you."

"They rarely are," Castle said. "Need to know."

"I get that," Kate admitted. "But they cut us loose. If it hadn't been for your father pulling in Rifka and whoever her people are, that storm could have easily killed us."

"That's the way it works, Kate. The company isn't the Marines. There's no 'Leave no man - or woman - behind.' But you're right. If they want me to keep my ears open at book signings, I'm fine with that, but we're not getting on any more yachts unless they belong to friends, and most of my friends have more eclectic pursuits."

"I've noticed that. And Hawaii will be just you and me."

"Roger that," Castle agreed. "And I can do with some time with my exquisite wife, without an audience."

"We are going to have to do some shopping first," Kate noted. "Your dad may be good with documents and electronics, but we're both going to need something more tropical vacationy to wear."

"True enough," Castle said, "or to take off each other."

Kate smiled and snuggled into his shoulder as their jet began to roll along the tarmac.

* * *

With newly filled shopping bags, Kate and Rick arrived in their bungalow to find Agent Gray waiting for them.

Rick dropped his bags, throwing one arm in front of Kate and the other in front of his face. "No! No way! Gray, what the hell are you doing here?"

Despite Rick's outburst, Gray's deceptively mild expression was unchanged. "I'm here to debrief you, Rick. Standard operating procedure after a mission."

"Standard operating procedure? Like abandoning Kate and me to the mercies of a perverted torturer and a perfect storm?"

"There's no need to get melodramatic about it Rick. Besides, those decisions weren't mine. I think you know where they came from. But since you managed to survive and make it to paradise, the company needs any information you might have about where that yacht was going."

"Are you telling me that after all Castle and I went through, you lost it?" Kate demanded angrily.

"The company can't control the weather," Gray replied calmly.

"I'm sure they're working on it," Castle responded. "But if I know you and the company, there's no way you're going to leave Kate and me alone to enjoy what's left of our honeymoon if you don't get what you want. Ask your questions. But I can tell you right now; I don't remember anything that the company doesn't already know."

Gray pulled a hypodermic syringe from his pocket. "You might be surprised, Rick."

Castle lay on the brightly colored cushions that topped the wicker couch in the bungalow, eyes closed and trembling. Kate turned to Gray. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, he's just reliving the events of the last few days, second by second. Gray pulled up a chair next to the sofa and activated a digital recorder. "Hieronymous, Rick."

Words began to pour from Castle's lips as he repeated every word he'd heard spoken on the yacht, reproducing even those in foreign tongues. Gray nodded as he listened until Rick reached the point where he and Kate had launched their lifeboat. "Parsimonious eagle, Rick. You can wake up."

Castle's eyes flew open. "Did you get anything the company can use?"

Gray nodded slowly. "I don't know, Rick." He held up the recorder. "I'll have to get this analyzed. But now you two can go ahead and enjoy whatever it is you came here to do." Gray let himself out.

"Are you all right, Babe?" Kate asked. "It looked like you'd done that before."

"I'm OK," Castle assured her, getting up. "That was augmented recall, and I have done it before. I was semi-conscious. I remember it like a dream, one that's already fading. It was less than pleasant going through some of Yousuf's fun and games again, but at least the company will be out of our hair for now, and we can get down to some fun and games of our own."

"What if I was to say 'Hieronymous,' to you?"

"The Dutch painter? Alexis did a paper on him once. Never cared much for his work. Earthly delights notwithstanding, his gardens are way too crowded. And right now, the last thing I want is a crowd, which for purposes of this conversation means more than two. Why did you bring him up?"

"Never mind," Kate said. "It doesn't make any difference now. What kind of fun and games did you have in mind?"

Castle reached out to draw her tightly against his rapidly growing arousal. "We'll make them up as we go along."

* * *

Lilah, Director Haspel's chief analyst, handed her a report. "Transcription and translation of the Richard Castle debriefing. Mostly what we'd expect from Yousuf, but a couple of very salient revelations. I flagged them."

Haspel flipped through the pages to the marked sections. "More than salient. Vital. OK, you're dismissed. Good work."

As soon as Lilah had left, Haspel picked up her secure line to the director of the FBI. "We need to coordinate to scramble a team, ASAP. In 48 hours, ISIL will be attempting to deploy chemical weapons in Nazareth. No, Not Nazareth, Israel, Nazareth, Pennsylvania."

* * *

Kate threw her legs over the side of the bed. "God, I'm starved!"

Castle propped himself up on one elbow. "No wonder. I believe that in the last 24 hours we've burned more calories than we consumed in the last week. I think there are a couple of mangoes left in the fruit basket. The juice I sipped from your lips has been far and away the sweetest thing I've ever had - except maybe for Manic Marjory's chocolate marshmallow fudge."

"Castle, you really should know when to stop talking. But wonderful as it is no more tropical fruit. I want something thick I can really tear into."

"We're a long way from Remy's incredible burgers," Castle pointed out. "But I did see some intriguing items in the refrigerator the management so thoughtfully stocked for us. Mostly fish, but if I'm not mistaken, there was ground beef. We can make our own. I traded Knicks floor seats to Remy's line cook in exchange for instructions on how to get that char on the outside that seals in all the juices so that they will drip down your delicious visage. They're stored in the cloud. I should be able to retrieve them with my phone." Castle reached for the device. A news alert lit up the screen. "Kate, there was an attempted attack with nerve gas on American soil."

"Was anyone hurt?" Kate asked.

"No, the terrorists that tried to pull it off were captured. But Kate, I think it was the kind of nerve gas Yousuf was transporting."

"If it was the ISIL group he was working with; it was stopped. That's good news. Right?"

"I hope so," Castle replied. "Those guys know how to carry a grudge."


	6. Chapter 6

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 6

Castle settled back in his chair next to Kate's desk in the bullpen. "I can't say that I'm glad we're back. I could happily spend a few centuries kissed by the sun, the surf, and of course your enthralling lips. But there is something to be said for getting to work. I can use some material for my new book. I just hope we get a case soon. I've already given Ryan and Esposito my best counsel on the art of paper airplane making. I wouldn't even have been able to do that it Gates was here. Where is she?"

"Meeting at 1PP. Something about budgets."

"Great, she'll be in an even worse mood when she gets back. We'd better have an excuse to get out of here soon." As if responding to Castle's lament, the phone on Kate's desk rang.

* * *

Lanie Parish was already at the scene, kneeling beside a body. "Got an ID on the vic?" Kate called as she and Rick strode toward the M.E.

"Not yet," Lanie replied. "I was about to send off the prints."

Kate stared back at Castle as they caught sight of the dead man's face. "No need to wait for them to run. Castle and I have seen him before. We were at a party with him. We know who he is."

Kate urged Castle out of hearing range of Lanie and the cops at the scene. "Castle, it can't be a coincidence that the first body that drops for us is Yousuf."

"I'm sure it isn't," Castle agreed. "It's a message and not a friendly greeting." Rick pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Gray?" Kate inquired.

"No, I'm sending the code for an emergency meet to my father. I'm just hoping he's somewhere he can receive it."

* * *

Jackson wasn't in Pennsylvania, at least not officially. The story that had gone out to the press was that the perpetrators of the attempted chemical attack had all been taken into custody. Technically that was true. The toadies who had been sent in on what was essentially meant to be a suicide mission had been arrested by the FBI and interrogated. Of course, they didn't know anything. The poor saps had been brainwashed by the propaganda put out over the internet. They'd received their instructions and attempted to follow them, but they had no idea who was behind the operation. Director Haspel did. The orchestrator was only midlevel in the ISIL network but was capable of wreaking enough havoc that Jackson had been ordered to take him out, quietly and cleanly. That meant with a knife, not a gun, and not leaving a body around to be found.

It was far from one of his most difficult assignments. His target kept fairly regular habits, visiting a halal butcher several times a week. Jackson had set up in an empty storefront on a shared walkway with the meat merchant. It would not be difficult to silence and grab his objective, kill him out of sight and dispose of the corpse. There was a laundromat next door to where Jackson waited. He could stroll to his car with a duffel bag large enough to contain the body and look to all the world like he was bringing home his newly washed clothes. A company owned cement kiln would take care of the rest. With any luck, the ash might even be incorporated into a useful structure.

Jackson's phone pinged softly, alerting him to the message from Richard. Damn! He couldn't get to New York until he finished his assignment. He hoped he could do it quickly.

* * *

Kate drew several calming breaths before she and Castle met Lanie in her lab. "Have you got a COD yet?"

"Officially, I'm classing it as shock, but it wasn't because someone jumped out at him and yelled surprise. The man was tortured."

How?" Castle asked. "I didn't see any blood or marks on the body."

"That's because you didn't see what's under the sheet. There are burn marks on his testicles. It was just too much for him. His heart stopped."

"Did you find anything else?" Kate asked.

"There was something in Arabic carved into his torso. I put a photo of it through a transliteration algorithm. It said fatwa. I looked it up; it's a ruling in Islamic law."

"Or in Salman Rushdie's case, essentially an order that he be put to death," Castle said.

"I guess that's what whoever marked this guy meant," Lanie assumed. "Looks like he made the wrong person mad. Now it's up to you guys to figure out who that was. There weren't any prints but the vic's, but there was DNA. The lab is running it now."

Kate sat in her unit beside Castle, without starting the engine. Her hands were white on the steering wheel. "It doesn't make sense. Yousuf could have been tortured and killed thousands of miles from here. Why do it in New York?"

"It's a statement, Kate. What happened to him is more than the penalty for failure. There was no need to declare a fatwa on someone already dead. You and I are in New York. That body was dropped in your jurisdiction. The death sentence has been passed on us."

"Castle if that's true, shouldn't the agency offer us some protection?"

"Kate, officially our little mission never happened. We can't tell anyone about it any more than we could about what actually happened with Sofia Turner. The CIA isn't about to tell the N.Y.P.D. or anyone else why we might be in danger either."

"How about the FBI? The CIA used them to take care of the attack in Pennsylvania."

"Maybe, it depends on how much the CIA told them, and knowing the company; it wasn't a word more than they had to. Until my father shows up, we need someone in the FBI that we can trust to believe that we have a connection to Yousuf, without our having to reveal any details. How about someone from your old task force?"

"I think I burned most of my bridges there, Castle, especially since I sabotaged the unit's relationship with the CIA."

"There's another agent who admires both of us. And she does owe both of us her life."

"You mean Jordan Shaw? Castle, she specializes in serial killers."

"Well if the killer, in this case, gets his way, there will be three bodies. That would meet the definition. And she is the federal you. She likes the weird ones. And torture and body markings are right up her alley."

"You may have a point, Castle. But given your puppy-like admiration for her, it might be better if the call came from you."

"Kate, is that a hint of green in those hazel eyes? I think our marriage made it clear to the world where my utmost admiration lies, but if you are still intimidated by her smart board and other toys, I will be happy to make the call."

"Never mind, Castle. This is a law enforcement matter. You're not a cop, and we can't tell her about whatever else you are. I'll contact her. But I think it might be better if we didn't meet her at the precinct or the loft."

"Wherever my partner wants to go; I am hers to command."

Jackson stretched out his long legs. There hadn't been many seats left on the flight to New York, but he had been lucky enough to get one on the aisle. His target had been late, so his job had taken longer than he'd anticipated, but he'd completed it without incident. Once he was in a secure location in New York, he could contact Richard.


	7. Chapter 7

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 7

"So, let me get this straight," Jordan said when Kate and Rick met her in an old-fashioned diner. "Officially Detective Beckett called me in because this case both strays from the norm, and the carving on the body connects it to terrorism. Unofficially there is a connection to the two of you, but you are not at liberty to tell me what it is."

"That's the size of it," Castle confirmed. "You'll just have to trust us about that."

"Given the tendency you two have to stray from prescribed channels, I do not doubt that you've had some strange encounters. So, for now, I will take you at your word that this case implies that you are both in danger. I can arrange for a unit to watch your backs."

"Not one of those black SUVs," Castle interrupted.

"I'm afraid so. They are standard issue, But as I was going to ask, can you give me any links to terrorism besides the fatwa declaration?"

"Our murder victim had a connection to the chemical weapon that the terrorists attempted to use in Pennsylvania," Kate replied.

"But you can't tell me what it is."

Castle shrugged. "Sorry, but I would suggest that if you examine Yousuf bin Ibrahim's associations, you may uncover it on your own."

Jordan nodded slowly. "All right. That would be SOP in any murder investigation. Can you tell me which associations I might be exploring?"

"Just follow his money," Castle advised. "As I understand it, that is something at which your people have always excelled - back to Capone. Personally, I've always had my suspicions that was the reason that when Geraldo threw open the door of Scarface's vault, it was empty."

Jordan choked on a sip of her coffee. "I won't comment on that, Castle, but the bureau does have its forensic accountants. I will make sure they are looking into that. Anything else?"

"Just that since the attempt in Pennsylvania was frustrated, there is no reason to believe Yousuf's former associates won't try again."

"Castle, the bureau would never believe otherwise."

* * *

Jackson's drive into Manhattan from LaGuardia took longer than his flight had, but he quickly settled into a condo that served as a residence for agents in transit. It was small, but well stocked with both food and weaponry, the latter in a hidden compartment in the wall. He wasn't sure what he'd need. Traveling as an ordinary citizen, he'd had to leave his knife behind to pass through airport security. But now there were multiple blades and firearms available to him. He chose two of each to secret on his body and sent a message to Richard.

Castle's phone dinged not long after he and Kate had left Jordan. He'd been satisfied by both the meeting and some excellent cherry pie but was still grateful to see that Hunt was in town. They reprised their previous park bench meetings, but with Kate accompanying Rick.

"No doubt ISIL is pissed off at you," Hunt confirmed. "But they love drama. I would guess that when they come after you, and you can be pretty sure that they will, you will not be the only victims. An attack in New York City could spur a lot of fear and generate massive publicity. Someone would invoke 9/11 milliseconds after it takes place. But they won't use nerve gas. It's been destroyed. The person that engineered that operation for the states is out of the picture."

"I won't even ask how you know that," Castle said. "So, what? A mass shooting? A bomb? A biological weapon?"

"Could be any or none of the those," Hunt admitted. "I'll check all my sources. The Israelis get great intelligence and Rifka is pretty well plugged in. I'll do what I can, son, and let you know what I find out."

"Thanks, Dad, I appreciate it."

"You know I watch out for family, Richard, and that includes you now too, Kate. But it won't hurt my relationship - or yours - with the company if we bring some serious hurt to the bad guys."

A chill descended with the evening as Rick and Kate walked to the loft. Rick drew her against him, acting as a windbreak from the breeze. He spotted a black SUV parked across the street from their building. "Looks like Jordan was true to her word. I just wish that her guys would drive something a little less obvious, like a Fusion."

"Castle in this neighborhood, a Mercedes would be less obvious than a Fusion."

"Point taken," Castle admitted. "And having them here will make me feel more secure, especially when Mother or Alexis is around. But that won't be tonight. Alexis has a sleepover with Buttons and Mother has an assignation. Aside from the guardians at the gate, we are on our own. The loft is not Hawaii, but the selection of wines is definitely superior."

"Castle do we have the red that makes me feel all…?"

"Kate, it occupies a substantial portion of the rack."

* * *

Abir pored over a map of the city. His target needed to be big, so big that his victory would never be forgotten. But it would also need to be somewhere both Richard Castle and Kate Beckett could be lured. They would be wary. He'd never approved of the practice of announcing the holy army's intentions. He saw no point in putting the enemy on alert, but he faithfully followed orders. He could study their habits. Richard Castle had never been publicity shy. Kate Beckett had been more likely to shun the spotlight, but they had been photographed many places together. There would also be events that would attract their attention. He had only to assure their presence at one. The Ledger conveniently put out a schedule of all the city's entertainments. A study of it, combined with the history of his targets, should yield an answer.

* * *

Lanie studied the test results of the DNA found on Yousuf bin Ibrahim's body. She wasn't surprised that the possible killer wasn't in the system. If he'd been brought in from the outside or newly radicalized, there would be no reason he should be. What was surprising was the results of the phenotyping. She had expected a Middle Eastern or African ancestry, and there was a small percentage of that. But the DNA indicated light hair, skin and eyes, someone more likely to be taken for Scandinavian than Semitic. He would not fit a terrorist profile, which would make him that much harder to identify. If the DNA did belong to the killer, Kate and Rick had their work cut out for them.

* * *

Peter Anderson regarded the email from his son. He'd yet to get used to Dean calling himself Abir. Though the family had occasionally dropped into a church on Christmas or Easter, it had never been seriously observant of any religion. It had come as a shock when his son had changed his name. But that wasn't what worried him. As Dean had become more enthralled with his mother's very distant heritage, he'd become harder to talk to. Peter couldn't even broach politics without starting an argument. Meals had become strained as well, with Dean adopting new dietary restrictions. A Jello mold the boy had loved throughout his life had suddenly become unacceptable because of the questionable origin of the gelatin. It was evident to Peter that Dean also had other things on his mind, but his son refused to discuss them. Peter had a bad feeling as he wondered what the forbidden subjects were.


	8. Chapter 8

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 8

Kate stretched, her hand almost knocking over the wineglass that was still at the side of the bed. The sun was not yet up, and Castle was sleeping restlessly beside her. She could understand his disquietude. No matter how well-intentioned, his history with the company was coming back to bite them, and worse, the city was in danger. But it wasn't as if they hadn't faced similar levels of threat before and made their way through them - without help from Jackson and Jordan. The night had been an island of forgetfulness, and she was determined to make it last, at least until it was time to go to the precinct. She touched Castle's cheek. "Babe."

With his eyes still closed, he reached out to her. "Kate?"

"Are you OK, Castle?"

"I was dreaming, but not the good kind. We were chasing the van with the dirty bomb, but a big truck pulled out in front of us. We weren't going to make it. You woke me before the thing would have gone off. Thank you for that."

"Thank you for keeping it from going off in the real world. This would have been a very different city and a very different country if it had. But Castle, we prevented a disaster then - mostly you did. Your history had to play a role in that."

"It did, Kate. I knew things weren't adding up and I knew how Syrian surveillance would work. I also had a pretty good idea that the bomb couldn't go off if it were completely detached from the detonator. That's why I pulled all the wires. It was unlikely that those guys had set it up with a booby trap. And to frame the Syrians, they couldn't set it off remotely. But the situation now is different. The whole idea of terrorism is to make yourself look stronger by sowing as much fear and chaos as you can. My father is right. ISIL wants an event, a big one. We'll just have to figure out what."

"But my job is to figure out who killed Yousuf," Kate reminded him, "and that may lead us in the right direction. Lanie said she'd have a full report for us first thing in the morning and she gets into the lab at eight. We have a couple of hours to sleep - or whatever."

Castle pushed her hair away from her face and ran the tip of his forefinger over her lips. "I'll go with whatever."

Their lips met gently at first, with Rick holding himself above Kate. She arched toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and they rolled, landing her on top. She ground against him, her breasts flattening against his chest. She gasped as he slipped his hand between them. "Can you?"

"If we make it tit for tat."

They scrambled to shift positions, mouths tasting while hands explored every inch of heated skin they could reach. Kate's fingers plunged into Castle's hair pulling his mouth more tightly against her moist heat, even as she took him deeper. They rolled again, tangling in whatever covers remained on the bed. Behind her closed eyelids, Kate could see sparkles of light, striking at the darkness of night. Her body flailed beyond her control, bucking and thrashing beneath Castle's seeking lips and tongue. As she tasted his first pearlescent drop, she caressed him to madness. Their explosions flared in synchrony. Minds drained of any conscious thought; they sank into the respite of dreamless slumber for what remained of the night.

* * *

"Lanie, is there a chance that the DNA didn't come from our killer?"

"There's always that chance, Kate. Accidental transfers take place all the time when people bump up against each other in crowds, in elevators, in subway trains. But in this case, not much of a chance, because some of the DNA came from blood. And our killer was no expert with a knife. He cut himself when he was putting his message on the body. The lab had to make sure the profile of his DNA wasn't confused with the vic's. That's why their report was slow."

"So, we have a blond, blue-eyed terrorist who's clumsy with a blade," Castle concluded. "Anything else?"

"Your suspect has glucose-6-phosphate dehydrogenase deficiency. That's an inherited disease of the red blood cells. It's usually seen in people from the Middle East or Africa because it's partially protective against malaria. There had to be someone in his family tree who came from that part of the world. His DNA backs that up."

"So, he's sick?" Castle asked.

"Not necessarily," Lanie replied. "A lot of patients who have the disease have no symptoms. But they can be brought on by stressors like infections or even foods like fava beans. If that happened, his red blood cells would break down. His butt would be dragging, and his skin might be yellow. If he had an acute attack, he would have needed medication or even a blood transfusion."

"Would there be a record of that, somewhere?" Kate asked.

"The condition isn't catching, so the health department wouldn't keep any listings. His medical records would be protected by privacy laws, but if he had food restrictions or his teachers were supposed to be on the lookout for symptoms, there might be something about it in his school records."

"But there's no central registry of those," Kate noted. "We'd have to know which school, and to know that, we'd have to know who he is."

"Maybe not," Castle offered. "He's mostly of Scandinavian extraction, right?'

Lanie nodded.

"There are Scandinavian enclaves in the city. I shopped in a couple of them when Alexis was going through a stage when she was into eating fish all the time. There were some good grocery stores there whose owners made the pilgrimage to the Fulton market every morning, which meant I didn't have to. Fortunately, she made it through that particular obsession pretty fast. The loft smelled like - never mind. But I remember the neighborhoods. There were only a couple of schools. We could check with them to see if anyone there remembers a kid like that."

"If anyone does, we'd still need a court order to open the records," Kate mused. "But given the possible connection to terrorism, it shouldn't be hard to get one."

* * *

Carrying a file, Bennie Simkowitz approached Jordan. "Agent Shaw, I think I may have something for you. Bin Ibrahim's money went through a pretty complicated series of transactions to avoid the checks on money laundering. He had to buy some property. Normally I wouldn't have even flagged it, because guys with his kind of money buy property all the time. But in this case, he bought it for a lot more than it was worth, $40 million more than it was worth. He purchased an estate in Palm Beach but never lived there. Neither has anyone else. It's just standing empty."

"Who'd he buy it from?" Jordan asked.

"Still working on that. The transaction went through a bank in Cypress. They cooperate with us, but we still have to requisition the records and untangle the ownership. We're expediting the process as much as we can. I should have an answer in a couple of days."

"Good work, Bennie. I just hope we have a couple of days."


	9. Chapter 9

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 9

"Hey Castle," Ryan asked, "are you and Beckett going to the benefit for the families of first responders, this year? Beckett always goes."

"So, do I," Castle replied, "but until the past few years we didn't do it together. My ticket broker always snags the best seats for me, so I don't have to worry about when they go on sale. Are you and Jenny going?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Ryan declared. "Neither would Javi, but he goes with some of his pals from his army days. They always make a showing. Thing's gotten so big; they've moved it to Madison Square Garden."

Castle whistled. "Wow, that place holds over 20,000 people. That's terrific. I'll have to check, but if my broker is on his game, Kate and I should be right on top of the action."

"You and the mayor, the city council, and the governor. Jenny and I will be in the cheap seats, but maybe we can all meet up afterward for drinks."

"If I value my man parts, I need to check with Kate first, but it sounds like fun," Castle agreed.

As Ryan headed for the break room, Kate returned to her desk from the ladies' room. "What did I miss, Castle?"

Ryan and I were just talking about the big benefit. This year it will be more like huge. It should help take care of a lot of families. Everybody who's anybody should be there."

Kate chewed on her lip. "That would make it one hell of a target for a terrorist attack, wouldn't it? Especially since the paparazzi have caught us attending before."

"God, Kate, you're right! We should talk to Jordan - and I'll see if I can get a hold of my father."

* * *

Abir met with the rest of his cell at a back booth in Yossi's kosher delicatessen. He smiled to himself. It was a strange place to meet, but reasonable. He was sure his mosque was under surveillance, if not by federal agents, by what should have been his own people, enlisted by law enforcement to be their eyes and ears. Yossi's would be the last place anyone would expect him and his fellow soldiers to be, and the fact that there was no chance of any pork products or contamination by anything unclean around, was perfect. With increased monitoring of communications by phone or internet, a face to face meeting with his comrades was safer. They shared a plate of vegetables as they talked.

"I've studied the architecture of our target," Fahim said. "With the security that is expected and the shape of the building, it would be impossible for us to plant enough explosives to achieve maximum destruction and bring death to our enemies."

"Are you proposing that we wait and find another target?" Cadmael asked. "We cannot put off our display of strength that long, not after the failure in Nazareth."

"Even if we all go to our deaths, there will be glory and reward," Saladin insisted.

"We need not wait for another target, nor must any of us live our final days yet," Fahim declared. "But we must aim higher. The building next door is much nearer to heaven. It is possible that with so many government officials expected, the local police will be alert for snipers there, but shooting is not my plan. We will be gone long before they are on alert." He unrolled several large sheets of paper showing building plans and pointed. "This is where the support is for the upper floors. We place carefully shaped charges in these locations, rigged to detonate with the signal from a cellphone. The collapsing upper floors will fall to the roof of the structure beside it, our target. That roof was never built to bear that much weight. It will give way and crush everyone below. Those who are not immediately killed will be trapped and choking on air full of dust and debris. Twenty-thousand of the enemy, including would-be rescuers, destroyed with the push of a button."

"Where do we obtain the explosives?" Cadmael queried.

Abir smiled. "Leave that to me."

* * *

Kate replaced her phone in its cradle. "That was the last of the schools you mentioned, Castle. There wasn't anyone there who remembered a kid who might have grown up to be our murderer. But the woman I talked to said that the school secretary has just retired. She was there for 40 years and knew everything about every student. I have an address. We should go talk to her."

"Right behind you. I have a warm place in my heart for school secretaries. They were the only ones I could talk to in the endless hours during which I was banished to the office."

"For crimes real or imagined?" Kate asked.

Castle grinned. "Mostly real, but very imaginative."

Mary Elizabeth Gunderson was glad to have company. For four decades the voices of children had rung in her ears, and despite the constant background of traffic noise, her life now was too quiet. When she realized that her guests were her favorite author Richard Castle and his new wife and muse Kate Beckett, she was ecstatic. She invited them to sit while she brought tea and the snickerdoodles she'd always kept in a crockery jar on her desk. She thoughtfully sipped the warm liquid, fragrant with spice. "Hmm, we had a few children who were anemic over the years. Their parents were in constant battles with Mr. Johnson, the gym teacher, to keep him from giving them exercises which would overtire them. I had to have my file of doctor's excuses ready at hand. Of course, I can't give you any names. Loose lips sink ships. But there was one who also became jaundiced. He scared his teacher to death. We called the paramedics. I believe that was in 1994. Yes, I'm sure it was. It was the year we won the junior Quiz Bowl championship. That would put the boy in his late twenties now. The records would still exist. I kept a log of all incidents causing students to leave the school for health reasons, and all the health files are required to be kept for 30 years. They would be in the storage room. If you can get the proper paperwork to search for them, you should be able to find them there."

"Thank you, Ms. Gunderson," Kate said. "You have been very helpful."

"You are quite welcome, dear," Mary Elizabeth assured her. "But Mr. Castle, I wonder if you would consider signing one of my books before you and the detective go off in pursuit of your suspect."

Castle bowed and kissed the white-haired woman's crepey but well-manicured hand. "Ms. Gunderson, I would be honored to sign anything you like."

* * *

Abir unlocked the door of his storage unit and closed it again before uncovering his equipment. He'd always enjoyed science, especially chemistry. And when he'd discovered in his teen years, how relatively simple it was to make explosives, it had opened up a new world for him. He'd chosen a unit that vented to the outside and slowly built a hood with a filtration system, so he could use the fuming acid required to manufacture plastic explosives. Neither the acid nor the other chemicals he needed were difficult to obtain. They were not used to make drugs, something he would never have dreamed of doing, but they were used for a variety of industrial purposes, and since he worked for a laboratory, few questions were asked.

He wore a thick protective apron, gauntlets and a face shield, but he didn't mind the slight discomfort. The results would be worth it. What his work would produce would result in the deadliest attack ever, on U.S. soil. New York and the world would be awed by the might of his holy forces.


	10. Chapter 10

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 10

Castle stared at the black goo he had sneezed into his handkerchief. "Don't they ever dust this place?"

Kate ran her finger over the top of a filing cabinet. "Not very often. But at least the records are here from 1994. Now, all we have to do is find Ms. Gunderson's logs. "

Castle pulled out a drawer and started hunting through the folders. "I think I found them. I must say Ms. Gunderson has lovely penmanship." He paged through a sheaf of papers. "Wow, there were a lot of sick kids. Mostly bad colds, the flu, sore throats. Oh! A bunch of kids went home with food poisoning. That must have been a fun day for the teachers - and the janitor. So far, no jaun… Eureka! Here it is. Dean Anderson, third grade. That would have made him about eight. So, he would be about 27 now. Ms. Gunderson was right on the button."

Kate pulled her phone out of the pocket of her slacks. "We have a name, a description, and an age. If Dean Anderson drives a car, we should have him nailed." Lines formed across Kate's brow as she stared at the screen. Castle, there was a Dean Anderson fitting that description, but he changed his name."

"Sure it's the same guy?" Castle asked.

Kate nodded. "Same description and same Social Security number, but now he goes by Abir bin Nafadh. Looks like we've got a homegrown killer and possible radicalized terrorist on our hands. With any luck, maybe we can pick him up before he's able to put anything into action."

Castle blew out a deep breath. "Fingers crossed."

* * *

A woman answered Kate's knock. "Abir bin Nafadh? No, he moved out."

"And you are?" Kate inquired.

"Kathy Wilson. I'm subletting the apartment."

"How long have you been here?" Castle asked.

"A few months," Kathy replied.

"If you're subletting, you must be sending your rent to Abir. Where do you send it?" Kate queried.

"I don't," Kathy answered. "He comes by to pick it up, around 7 p.m. on the first of the month. He's always right on time, too. It's not like I have to sit around waiting for him. But I have to pay him in cash. You know, under the table. I don't think his lease allowed for subletting. I'm a gypsy, a dancer. I've got a gig in town now."

"The "Cats" revival?" Castle asked.

"Uh huh," Kathy agreed, "but mostly I work out of town with touring companies. I can't get anything but a sublet, and I've had all kinds of crazy arrangements. This one isn't as weird as some."

"I understand," Castle said. "My mother is Martha Rodgers, and when I was a kid, and she was touring, we'd live in all kinds of places."

"She's one of the few in the game that really made it," Kathy noted. "I saw her last play. She was wonderful."

"I'll tell her you said so, but tomorrow is the first. We need to talk to Abir. Are you expecting him?"

"I am, but I have a rehearsal, so I'll just put a note on the door and leave his money in the mailbox. He still has a key. So, if you're looking for him, he should be coming to pick it up."

"Looks like we have a stakeout tomorrow evening," Castle observed, as he and Kate headed for the elevator after Kathy was back behind her front door.

"Looks like we do," Kate agreed.

* * *

"I got your message, Bennie," Jordan Shaw said, standing in the doorway of the forensic accountant's office. "What have you got?"

"The Bank of Cypress came through faster than I thought they would. I guess they were embarrassed by that business with the Ukraine and they're trying to make nice. Anyway, they sent us the transactions on the account where Yousuf bin Ibrahim's money went. As you might have expected, a lot of it was routed to Iraq, Syria, and Niger. But some of it came back to the United States. It looks like it was involved in the failed attack in Pennsylvania, but over the past year, there have been regular transfers to several accounts in New York. They're too small to be flagged by the IRS, so they would have been under the radar."

"Any names on those accounts?"

"They're LLCs: Brighter Day, Sand Storm, Five Pillars and Winning Side. I traced down the ownership. The principals are Saladin bin Salaam, Fahim al Jabar, Cadmael Ali, and Dean Anderson, aka Abir bin Nafadh, respectively. I've been checking out the purchases on all the accounts. Agent Shaw, bin Nafadh gets regular paychecks deposited in a private account from a mainstream analytical laboratory, but Winning Side buys chemicals."

"What kind of chemicals, Bennie?'

"I don't know. I was an accounting major. The lab wasn't my thing, but I have the names of the supply houses. One of our science guys should check it out."

"Thanks, Bennie. I'll put someone on it."

* * *

Abir bin Nafadh," Kate repeated when she and Castle had a return engagement with Jordan at the diner. We came up with him too, as the primary suspect in Yousuf bin Ibrahim's murder. And we have an idea where he'll be tomorrow night. Your guys are still following us around, but you might want to be there too."

"I wouldn't miss it," Jordan declared. "But there is the other matter of the suspected terrorist target. You believe that it might be The First Responder Families Benefit at the garden?"

"It seems a more likely time and place than most," Kate confirmed.

"But we have no idea how it might be done," Castle admitted. "An event like that these days, any big concert really, people are searched. I don't know how a terrorist could bring anything in."

"You write scenarios like that all the time, Babe," Kate reminded him. "And you're at least as creative as any terrorist."

"Maybe, Kate," Castle replied doubtfully. "But when I write about how things like that are done, I do a ton of research - besides following you around. And I make up the details to go with what I discover. For a real-life location like the garden, I'm not sure where to start."

"I may be able to help you there," Jordan put in. "Our boy Abir likes to play with chemicals."

"Chemical weapons?" Castle asked. "We have reason to believe that the nerve gas from the operation in Pennsylvania is no longer available."

"And I'm sure you can't tell me what your reason is," Jordan responded.

Castle shook his head apologetically.

"I don't think we're talking about nerve gas either," Jordan continued. "My people tell me that takes a very specialized plant to synthesize, and as far as we can tell, there isn't one anywhere near New York that Abir would have access to. Chances are, whatever he's making, he'd be able to do in a small facility of his own. Our guys are still trying to find out what he has and what he might be able to make with it, but as soon as I hear something from them, I'll pass it on in case you get a storm in that strange brain of yours."

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted," Castle remarked. "Hopefully we can come up with something before tomorrow night. If Kate has information like that to work with, there's no way Abir will be able to come out of time in the box with her without a deep set of grill marks.


	11. Chapter 11

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 11

With the palm of his hand behind his neck, Castle propped his head on his arm and stared at the ceiling. Kate snuggled into his shoulder and pulled the covers up around them. "You should try to sleep, Babe. Tomorrow's going to be a really long day."

"I know," he acknowledged. "but I can't. I keep thinking about the layout of Madison Square Garden and how terrorists could pull off an attack there. And I've got nothing. You go ahead and get some rest. I'm going to get up for a while, look at some pictures of the place. Maybe it'll spark something in my less than stormy brain."

"Sleeping on it could do that too, and Jordan said she'd try to have more information tomorrow. Maybe that will be what you need."

Castle turned and kissed her temple. "You're right, but there's no way my mind is going to turn off right now. I'm going to go work in my office. That way at least one of us can get some shuteye."

Rick got up carefully, pulling a robe over his shorts and quietly walked the few steps barefoot, to sink into the chair behind his desk. He flipped open his laptop. The Madison Square Garden website offered an online tour, and he carefully studied every image, committing the details to memory. He tried to imagine an attack, but with the endless seats around a central point, he just couldn't picture how one would work without security people, of whom he had no doubt there would be many, taking the attackers down. And smuggling in a bomb, at least one of any size, would be impossible. His eyes blurred, and his head grew heavy enough to force him to return to bed. Kate was on her side, facing away from him. He spooned his body around hers, inhaling her scent and letting the warmth the of her body flow into his. Sleep finally overcame the turmoil in his mind.

* * *

Motioning Rick toward the privacy of the interrogation lounge, Kate put Jordan Shaw's call on speaker. "We're both listening."

"Good. This may be more for Castle. Our analysts figured out the chemicals Abir bin Nafadh has been buying can be used to make an explosive, a variation of C-4. It wouldn't be anything he'd want to do or even be able to do in an apartment, or wherever he's staying, so we are looking for where he might be producing the stuff. But I was told that with the quantities of the components he accumulated, he could make a lot of it and that the finished product would be fairly stable wherever he has it stored."

"So, he wants to blow something up," Castle concluded. "I haven't been able to figure out how he could get explosives into The Garden - not on the night of the benefit, even with the help of co-conspirators. Didn't you say your numbers guy may have uncovered three of them?"

"That's right," Jordan confirmed.

"Even with that many," Castle mused, "the volume of explosives they could conceal from a search wouldn't make a big enough bang to produce the effect something like a nerve gas attack would have. If we collar him tonight, maybe Kate can drag something out of him that will give us a clue."

"Kate, I'm looking forward to watching you work," Jordan responded. "The FBI will have a squad ready to go."

"So, will the N.Y.P.D.," Kate replied.

"Let's just hope our rat shows up for his rodent rendezvous," Castle added.

* * *

At two minutes to seven, Rick and Kate watched a blond man enter the building where Kathy Wilson had sublet Abir's apartment. Rick gestured with his mini binoculars. "That's got to be him."

"We have people set up in the stairwell and in the utility room on the floor where he should be going. The minute he goes for the note on Kathy's door they can grab him."

* * *

Kate deliberately remained standing on her side of the table in the interrogation room. She stared down at a shackled Abir. Both Rick and Jordan watched from observation. "So, Dean," Kate began."

"Abir," he corrected. "It means strong."

"Yes, I looked it up. It also means aroma, doesn't it? The stink of failure?"

"I have never failed," Abir insisted angrily.

"You got caught," Kate pointed out. "You couldn't even handle a knife well enough to avoid giving yourself away. The DNA in your blood has identified you as the murderer of Yousuf bin Ibrahim. And it is my job to put you away for that. But we both know that Yousuf was weak scum. Anyone could have killed him, anywhere. You had a greater purpose. But you have not succeeded in it."

Abir's chains rattled as he attempted to lunge at her. "You know nothing! My mission will be completed. I have fulfilled my role, but there are many soldiers in this war. The fury of our victory will fill the skies with terror and awe. You will soon know the truth of our message and how powerless you are against it."

"You've already passed the explosives you made on to your fellow warriors in the jihad," Kate concluded.

Abir's eyes widened in telltale confirmation of what Kate said, but he glared at her defiantly. "I will say no more. But soon the world will know."

Castle knocked on the glass and Kate left the room to join him and Jordan. "Did you get something out of that, Castle?"

"Could be. He talked about filling the skies. Kate, as buildings in New York go, The Garden isn't that high. It couldn't be, the way it's built on top of the old Penn Station. If his buddies are blowing something up, it is something tall. But the hotel next door…"

Jordan nodded. "If they blew that, then the pieces would fall on The Garden."

"Not only would the roof fall in, but without solid ground below, the whole structure could collapse," Kate finished. "All the people at the benefit would be crushed."

"And they'd kill a lot of people in the hotel as well," Jordan realized. "By loss of life, it could be the biggest disaster in modern history. But now that we know where to look and what to look for, we should be able to stop it."

* * *

The hotel management was not pleased when the squads arrived from the FBI and the N.Y.P.D. with dogs and chemical sniffers and demanded the evacuation of the building, but the guests were ushered out and transferred to other hotels as quickly as possible. Bomb, after bomb was uncovered at points that an architect brought in from the city planner's office determined were the most vulnerable. For safety's sake, an empty Madison Square Garden was searched as well, but nothing was found.

When The Garden and the hotel had finally been declared clear, Jordan met with Kate and Rick at the Twelfth. "The hotel's open for business," Jordan declared, and the benefit should be safe, but we haven't tracked down Abir's accomplices. The disposal units retrieved the detonation devices. They are linked to cell phones, but they're burners, and so far, we haven't been able to track their ownership."

"So, they could be planning something else - including coming after Kate and me," Castle concluded.

"It could happen," Jordan conceded. "If your secret source can get anything on where Abir's buddies are, we could really use that intel now."


	12. Chapter 12

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 12

"What do you know about the members of the terrorist cell that are still in New York?' Jackson Hunt demanded.

Director Haspel regarded him, her expression unperturbed. "Small potatoes, Hunt. Al Jabar has a talent for logistics, but without bin Nafadh, he can't function. Ali is a rabble-rouser, and bin Salaam is a cheerleader. The FBI will track them down before they can get their act together to execute another attack on a significant target."

"Is my son a significant target?" Hunt pressed. "From the chatter I hear, there is still a fatwa out on him and his wife."

"The FBI still has people on them," Haspel responded.

"Uh huh, and TSA keeps people from smuggling weapons on planes - except for the 95 percent they miss. The rest of that cell should be taken out now. Any idea where they are?"

"Lilah's been tracking them. They're using what they believe is a secure website on the deep web. But we've been mirroring it. That's how I know they've got nothing. "

"Can I get their locations?"

"Suit yourself Jackson, but if you're looking to eliminate them, it won't be an officially sanctioned mission."

"When is it ever, these days?"

"Just remember, if you get caught by the FBI or the N.Y.P.D., you're still officially listed as off the payroll. We won't be able to protect you."

"Director, if I'd had to depend on the company to protect me, I'd have been dead a long time ago."

* * *

His face contorted with fury, Cadmael Ali watched a live stream of the Families of First Responders Benefit. Instead of the revelation of the power of his cause, everything from the pornographic costumes to the blasphemous lyrics was a testament to western decadence and godlessness. It was unfortunate enough that Abir had permitted himself to be captured, but an insult to Cadmael's very core that Richard Castle and Kate Beckett had been at the root of the failure of the sacred mission. There could be no doubt that the penalty would have to be delivered as swiftly as possible. But the message would have to be clear. No matter what battles might appear to result in defeat, he and his fellow warriors would triumph.

The question was only how the elimination would be accomplished. Fahim was their tactician and had as yet to develop a plan. Saladin merely continued his prayers, an obligation to be sure, but alone, insufficient. Cadmael wondered if he should take matters into his own hands. He had never personally taken a life, but he had been through training both online and during a visit to his people's homeland. His scores on the shooting range were good, but he preferred blades. Perhaps using one to behead his enemies and releasing the video to the world, would make it clear that defeat had never been at hand. He had only to work out the details of their capture or spur Fahim to do so. How difficult could it be? His comrades kidnapped infidels all over the world daily. The streets and sin-ridden amusements of New York should provide multiple opportunities.

First, he needed a sword, and he knew just which one he wanted. He'd seen it on display in the window of a pawn shop and recognized it as a testament to the former and future glory of his people. The monthly stipend to his company would more than cover the cost. He smiled to himself. When the shop opened in the morning, he would be there to obtain the instrument of his adversaries' destruction.

* * *

Castle poured fresh-brewed coffee into mugs for himself and Kate. "That was some show last night wasn't it?"

"It was," she agreed before savoring her first sip. "The duet by Jay-Z and Alicia Keys was fantastic. The routine Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart put together was amazing. I'm not a big fan of country, but it fit in well. And I'm not even going to try to describe Springsteen. If that bombing had succeeded, I think it would have wiped out at least half the talent in the United States, maybe the world."

"Very true. Given that I have yet to hear a word back from my father, other than a declaration that he is looking into Abir's accomplices, how shall we use our own prodigious talents today?"

"I have no idea, Castle; maybe there will be a …" Kate's phone buzzed. "It's Agent Shaw. Jordan, you're on speaker with me and Castle."

"I just got a heads up from our guys who are tracking the financials of the LLC's that are being funded by money from Yousuf bin Ibrahim's accounts. There was a charge on Five Pillars for the purchase of a scimitar. We checked. It was signed for by Cadmael Ali, one of the suspected members of Abir's cell."

"I don't suppose we can assume the man is a collector," Castle wondered. "If I recall correctly from when I was researching names, Cadmael is a war chieftain. He might have a stash of weaponry, not that having one would make this any better. I don't suppose he gave an address."

"No. We have one for Five Pillars, but it is only a mail drop. Ali bought the sword at a pawn shop, so there should be security video. We're looking into that now. If we get a screen capture of him, I'll send it to you. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

"That someone may be after us with a sword. Copy that." Castle said.

* * *

Jackson monitored the feed from the tiny camera he had hidden in Ali's apartment while the man was out on his early morning errand. The would-be terrorist returned with a long thin package and unwrapped it as if it were a newborn child. "A Saracen scimitar," Hunt muttered to himself, "a slasher straight from the crusades. These guys are into symbolism." He watched Ali raise it and bring it down in imaginary cuts, twice. "Two victims," he reflected. "Richard and Kate?" It seemed likely. "Ali's grip was less than expert, but Jackson was sure that if the man put enough effort into it, he could cleave a neck or two nonetheless.

That wasn't going to happen. Jackson's next step would be to plant a tracer on Ali. An accidental collision would do it. Then if Cadmael got anywhere near Kate or Richard, there would be more than enough justification for taking him out. Hunt still had to make provisions for disposal of the body. There was no convenient kiln. A crematorium wouldn't do it - too many leftovers. The nearest incinerator for industrial waste had been closed down after it had failed to install proper emissions controls. That left one designed for biological hazards. Ali most certainly would be that. And heat high enough to destroy even the hardiest pathogen or toxin would make sure that no identifiable part of Ali would remain. Jackson would just have to figure out what would be the best time and method to break in and take care of his business. It shouldn't take long. Once he had his plan set, the holy war would have one less fighter in its ranks, and Cadmael Ali could join his ancestors. Jackson settled into the seat of his car to wait until Ali emerged, and he could tag him.


	13. Chapter 13

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 13

Castle looked down at the latest murder victim. "It's a relief to have a body again."

"I didn't notice yours was missing," Kate quipped.

"You know what I mean. COD blunt force trauma. Wallet, phone, and keys are missing. You know, a regular case. Possibly courtesy of the unfriendly neighborhood mugger."

"If that's the only motive, it will make the perp that much more difficult to find," Kate reminded him.

"All the better, it could require some serious detective work, but not of the anti-terrorist kind. I for one can use both the distraction and the respite from looking over my shoulder for someone with a sword."

"I think our FBI unit would be able to spot that," Kate said. "I just don't know how much longer they'll be around. Jordan has limited discretion, and if there isn't an open terrorism-linked case like Abir or an active threat, she may have to pull them. Maybe your dad is out there somewhere, but we can't really count on him, can we?"

"He came through for Alexis, and he's come through for us before. I have a feeling it would be better if we didn't know what he's working on, but he's plugged in somehow. But back to our regularly scheduled program." Rick pointed to the victim. "We need an ID on this guy."

"Lanie said she scanned his prints. If he's in the system, we should get one."

Castle hunkered down to get a better look at the corpse's face. "I think I've seen this guy somewhere before. But it was with a group of people, a very large group of people. I just can't…" Castle snapped his fingers. "It was at a con, Kate. Not New York Comicon, either. The way they vet attendees that would make it too easy. It was one of the smaller ones, but local, maybe in New Jersey or Connecticut."

"Lots of people go to cons, Castle. If you saw him at one, it could be a coincidence."

"True, but this case would be more interesting if it weren't."

* * *

Cadmael met Fahim at the beach he'd designated on Coney Island. It wasn't one patronized by tourists or even native New Yorkers. There were neither restrooms nor concession stands, but that made it the perfect place to avoid being overheard. "I've developed a plan and removed an obstacle," Fahim reported. "We have an opening."

"You killed one of our enemies?" Cadmael asked, his tone tinged with jealousy.

"Those who obstruct us are all our enemies," Fahim replied. "It was necessary. I've tracked Richard Castle's appearance over the past few years. He is a regular at the gatherings where women parade around in obscene outfits and celebrants clamor for attention from false idols. More recently, Katherine Beckett has accompanied him. The one I dispatched had a place at one of those decadent assemblies, scheduled to take place Saturday and Sunday of this week. He dealt in the sort of merchandise Castle would find attractive. We will take his position and offer a private showing of something Castle, and Katherine will find compelling. Then we can capture them. You will be free to do what you will, to complete our victory.

* * *

Checking the GPS tracker he'd planted on Ali, Hunt observed that the man was on Coney Island. As long as Kate and Richard remained in Manhattan, it was a fair bet that the terrorist would not be attacking them with a scimitar or anything else. Jackson could proceed with making his arrangements.

A night temp job as security at a medical waste incinerator was not his idea of an ideal occupation, but it would give him access to what he assumed he would eventually need. He had not noted Ali to be nocturnal, and he could always set up alerts to warn him if the man strayed toward Richard and Kate in the daytime, while he was grabbing some sleep. It was not the most exciting scenario, but that wasn't a downside. He could use some time to catch his breath once in a while.

* * *

Kate pulled a picture from the printer in the bullpen. "We have an ID on our vic," she announced as she pinned it to the murder board. "His name is Miles Vanderhock."

"What do we know about him?" Castle asked.

"Just what he gave the DMV," Kate said, slipping into her chair at her desk. She took her computer out of sleep mode. "Shouldn't take long to run a background check." Kate scanned the information on her screen. "He's an insurance salesman, and he's married. We should go see the wife."

Castle nodded solemnly. "Of course, you have to make the notification."

* * *

From the couch, opposite chairs occupied by Rick and Kate, Marisa Vanderhock dabbed at her eyes with a rapidly disintegrating tissue. "I knew something was wrong when Miles didn't come home last night. Sometimes he'll be out late gaming with his buddies, but he always comes in eventually. I called his office, and his friends, but no one had seen him. I even called a few hospitals. I called the police too, but the officer who took my call told me it was too soon to file a missing persons report."

Kate leaned toward the distressed woman. "Mrs. Vanderhock, we're so sorry for your loss, but I have to ask, is there anyone who would have wanted to hurt your husband?"

"No," Marisa insisted. "People liked Miles. He wouldn't have been much good at his job if they didn't. And he was an outstanding salesman. Not just insurance. He sold all sorts of things on the side."

"I can see some excellent science fiction themed art on the wall behind you," Castle said. "Did he sell things like that?"

"All kinds of collectibles," Marisa agreed. "And gaming gear. It's never been my cup of tea, but it fascinated him. That's why he would spend so much time out in the evening. He would even get booths at some of the expos. He had one coming up this weekend in New Jersey."

"Probably the Monster Con," Castle said. "I've been there. It's a great show, and there are lots of gamers in attendance. "

Marisa sniffed and swallowed. "Yes, he told me he thought it was going to be terrific, and he expected to do a lot of business." A deep sob rose from her chest. "Now he's never going to do any business again."

"Mrs. Vanderhock, is there anyone I can call for you?" Kate queried. "You shouldn't be alone right now."

"My mother. She lives in Queens, but she doesn't have a car."

"We'll get her here," Kate assured her. "And we'll stay with you until she comes."

* * *

Castle sighed as he leaned back in the passenger seat of Kate's unit. "That was tough. I got a good look at the Vanderhock apartment when I asked to use the bathroom. It was almost all Miles' stuff, art, and memorabilia. No pictures of children, or much of anything that said, Marisa. She's going to have to build a new life."

"It's never easy, Castle, Kate said, "but at least she isn't alone. Besides your obvious sympathy for the widow, is there something else turning the gears in your brain?"

"I'm just wondering if Vanderhock wasn't a random killing. I've thought more about what we saw, and muggers don't usually bludgeon people like that. His wallet could have been taken to make it look like a robbery. I was thinking about going to Monster Con this weekend anyway. We could go together. I know some of the gamers who should be showing up. Maybe we can pick up some information that would have never made it to Miles' wife."

"And you want to check out the latest VR systems," Kate added.

"That too," Castle admitted, "but I still think for the sake of the case, we should go."

"Fine," Kate agreed. "I've been thinking it might be fun to cosplay as Maiden in Black."

Castle grinned as visions of the sexy game character flitted through his mind. "I can't wait."


	14. Chapter 14

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 14

Jackson's phone bleeped with two alerts. Half asleep, he reached for it. The tracker he'd hidden in Richard's car was leaving Manhattan in the direction of New Jersey. The tracer he'd managed to adhere to Cadmael Ali was headed roughly the same way. All remnants of drowsiness fled instantly. "Sonofabitch! What the hell is going on in New Jersey?"

Jackson checked his weapons cache and folded himself into a Taurus he'd obtained not for head or legroom but trunk space. If Richard and Cadmael ended up in the same venue, he would be there too. And he would be ready.

* * *

Grateful for the automatic systems that would keep him from straying from his lane and stop him in an emergency, Rick couldn't keep from glancing sideways at Kate. He considered pulling over and exploring the compelling darkness of her portrayal of the character from Demon's Souls. But that could come later. His own costume, from a Joss Whedon series, was of an evil clergyman to whom he bore a surprising resemblance. He would have loved to go with the full-on horned Beast of Amalfi, but there would have been no way he could have seen well enough through the mask, to drive. The deceptively charming reverend had arrived behind the wheel, before stabbing a hapless victim to death, so in a way, the raiment was appropriate. The most dangerous of monsters, Rick considered, are those that can hide in plain sight.

The New Jersey Turnpike wasn't bad, although he anticipated a lot more traffic as they approached the con. He wasn't sure what he and Kate would be looking for, but if there was a gaming arcade, it would be an excellent place to start. If not, they could check out the vendor's displays and see if anything jumped out at them.

* * *

Cadmael and Fahim had set up a booth with hurriedly obtained merchandise. They'd told the display coordinator that they were associates of the recently and tragically deceased Miles Vanderhock and had been allotted the murder victim's space. Behind their display table, they'd constructed a curtained off area, conveniently close to an exit to a vendors' lot, where their van was parked nearby, handy for both the storage and transportation of dead bodies. A video camera had been hidden in the folds of heavy black fabric. If as expected, Richard Castle and Kate Beckett made an appearance, they could be lured into concealment, silenced and executed. The video would be uploaded for the world to witness.

* * *

On the phone housed in a stand on his dashboard, Jackson could see the two signals he was monitoring converge. They weren't quite on top of each other yet, but it was clear that Richard's car was in route to Ali's location. There was no way that could be a coincidence. Somehow, a trap was about to be sprung, and he was determined to make sure Richard and Kate would not be caught in it. And if he had the chance to eliminate a threat permanently, all the better.

Jackson arrived at Monster Con amid a stream of wildly costumed attendees. It would have been easy enough to buy a ticket and enter by the main door, but prominently displayed signs proclaimed that all convention-goers would be searched for weapons, even pretend ones, on the way in. There was no way he would be entering unarmed. He circled around the building to the dealers' area. The door from there to the sales floor required a keycard to open, but Jackson had a device that readily overcame that problem. He located the entrance to the building closest to the source of Ali's signal and noted the vehicle parked a few feet away. Slipping into the now-unlocked structure silently, he secreted himself within the voluminous dark curtains and waited.

* * *

When Kate and Rick entered the convention center where the con was being held, displaying her badge allowed her to retain her concealed weapon. Making their way through the crowds surrounding several battles between monsters emerging from cleverly simulated dimensional rifts, the couple reached The Gamers' Den. The room was dark, making the illumination of the screens that much more intense. As players concentrated on their games, there was little opportunity for conversation, but there was a refreshment corner where several discussions appeared to be going on.

Castle purchased two large drinks listed as Vixen's Venom and two Gromp's Intestines that looked remarkably like slightly twisted footlongs, and he and Kate took seats at a high table to eavesdrop on the chatter around them. Most of it concerned a new gaming console, a subject Castle found interesting in itself, but they both caught snatches of a description of a booth that had replaced what should have been Miles' Vanderhock's usual display. Even in the dim lighting, their eyes locked. They disposed of their half-finished venoms and hotdogs and headed for the huge hall that housed the dealer's domain.

Castle scanned the aisles of tables occupied by more parsimonious purveyors and the more extravagant displays occupying the area more toward the back. There were categories in both areas, from art to memorabilia, to books and graphic novels. There were even a few authors that Castle knew and greeted in passing, as he and Kate surveyed every vendor.

Fahim, keeping a careful eye on approaching patrons, spotted his quarry. "Take your place now; he instructed Cadmael, who disappeared into the curtained enclosure. Rick and Kate strode up to a booth near the rear wall of the exhibition hall, which bore a sign announcing "Vanderhock's Hokem." Unless he had risen from the dead, complete with a new face, the man standing behind the display table was not Miles Vanderhock. Kate noted the expansion of the vendor's pupils as she and Castle arrived. She shifted slightly, feeling the reassuring hard metal against her ankle, hidden by the length of her dark gown.

"Where's Miles?" Rick asked, "I'm Richard Castle. He texted me a few days ago and told me that he'd put aside a fully articulated remote-controlled figure of Sergeant Buck for me."

"Unfortunately, Miles could not be here today," Fahim said. "We are business partners, and I'm aware of the figure to which you referred." He gestured toward the curtained area. "If you'll follow me, I will show it to you. I have exclusive demonstrations set up for premium customers."

Rick glanced inquiringly at Kate, who nodded. Rick and Kate were ushered to where Cadmael lay in wait, but before Kate could make a movement toward her weapon, she felt a spray on her face and nauseating sweetness invading her nose and lungs. Both she and Castle collapsed to their knees. Reverently, Cadmael reached to withdraw his scimitar from its jeweled sheath.

Jackson emerged from hiding, knocking the sword to the ground. Silencing Cadmael with a blow to the windpipe, he expertly plunged a knife into the man's kidney with a fatal thrust. When Fahim charged at Cadmael's attacker, Hunt plunged the knife into the killer's heart.

Jackson pulled an injection pen out of his pocket and pressed it to the arms of both Kate and Rick, who convulsed at the rush of consciousness. "Are you two all right?"

"Kate?" Castle asked anxiously.

"I'm OK, Babe."

Castle regarded the two bodies. "Dad, perhaps sometime our surprise meetings could result in a little less bloodshed."

"It was their blood or yours, son," Jackson replied.

Castle could feel his body chill. "Yeah, I know."


	15. Chapter 15

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 15

"You two take off," Hunt instructed. "I can clean this up and take care of the bodies."

"You can't," Kate protested, "I mean take care of the bodies. These guys are implicated in the murder of Miles Vanderhock. That's my case. I can't let it go. I can't leave his wife hanging."

Hunt pointed at Cadmael. "Not this one. I was watching him. He was too interested in buying his fancy new toy, no doubt to take you two out in front of the world. He's probably got a camera in here somewhere. I'll make sure no images ever get out." He indicated Fahim. "It must have been him. Look, I can dump the body in the jurisdiction of some other precinct. Once they check his DNA, you'll be able to close your case; then the investigation of his death will be someone else's concern until they decide to let it go cold. You've got a more dangerous problem. There's another member of the cell out there. So far, he's been confined mostly to their version of spiritual support. Now he'll consider the completion of the mission his calling, and come after both of you."

"Do you know where he is?" Castle asked.

"I know where he was. He may no longer be there if his pals here don't check in with him. Just watch your asses until I find out. And Kate, you may need a hell of a lot more firepower than is in your ankle holster.

* * *

Castle tossed away his faux clerical collar and collapsed on the bed. "Monster Con did turn out to be a monster. Hell, of a day."

"It would have been a lot worse if Hunt, or Cross or whatever he's calling himself these days hadn't shown up. Babe, I know he's your father, but the way he takes people out as casually as if he was slicing a loaf of bread or something, makes my skin crawl."

"Not as much as it does mine," Castle confessed. "When I think about it, my guts twist. Kate, the first time I saw him, he'd just littered the ground of the woods in France with bodies. And he was smiling. I realize that they were working for Volkov, the Russian spy who took Alexis and that they were going to kill me. But Kate, God, they were still human beings. Then he blew up Volkov while he was talking to him and took out all the men around him too. At the time all I could think about was getting Alexis out of there. I still don't regret what we did, and that scares the hell out of me. I wonder how much of his cold blood flows through my veins."

Kate dropped down next to her husband and brushed her fingers across his face. "The fact that you're asking the question proves you're not like him. You put your life on the line to defend the ones you love, Alexis, your mother, and me. You should never have to apologize for that."

Plunging his fingers into her hair, Rick drew Kate toward him. "I never thought I'd have a wife I could love as much as I love you."

"And I was beginning to think I'd never meet a man I'd love enough to marry. So," she said, before her lips met his, "I guess we both lucked out."

"I guess we did." Castle agreed. "But you know, I've wanted to get that costume off you ever since you slinked into it this morning."

"And I haven't exactly been thinking of you as a preacher man, either."

Rick pulled at the neckline of the enticing gown. "Then we should do something about that."

Kate fingered the placket of his shirt. "Yes, we should."

Kate's skin was hot beneath Castle's hands as the fabric barriers between them were tossed away. His hand slid down her calf. "You're still wearing your gun."

Kate reached down to slip the holster off. "I'd much rather play with yours."

"It is at your disposal, but if you want to pull the trigger, I think it will need a little encouragement first."

Kate wrapped her fingers around his rapidly growing shaft. "Like this?'

"It's a start."

Sliding along his body, she circled his hardness with the tip of her tongue. "And this?'

"Definitely getting hotter."

Kate rubbed her feminine arousal against the firm muscle of his thigh. "It's not the only thing."

"Then perhaps we need a meeting of the minds - or something a little more hands on."

"Babe, it's not your hands I need inside me right now."

Rick pulled her need tightly against his own. Kate was more than ready; she felt as if there was a gaping maw within her, screaming to be filled. Both her hands dug into the flesh of his buttocks, urging him into her slick sheath. She groaned as her legs lifted unbidden by her thoughts, her knees flanking the sides of her head, allowing him even deeper entry. Her hands stretched upwards, her fingers twining with his as he thrust, retreated and thrust again. She could feel the pressure building within her, like steam in a boiler with no release valve. Her body pushed even higher, its weight borne on her head and shoulders as her breath came in desperate pants. Feeling the sudden jerk of Rick's release, she tightened around him, triggering wave after convulsive wave that swept through her, leaving her boneless and airless.

Castle rolled beside her gasping. He framed her face with the broad expanse of his hands. "Kate?"

"I'm fine Castle. After today, after the last few days, I needed that."

He smoothed the sweat-dampened strands of hair from her face. "Yeah, me too."

Castle lay listening as Kate's breathing took on the smooth rhythm of slumber. He knew she had retrieved her service weapon and was sleeping with it under her pillow. As unnerving as that was, Rick couldn't dispute her reasons. He climbed out of bed as quietly as he could to double-check the settings on the security system and make sure everything was armed. If there was another terrorist after him and Kate, he hoped he wouldn't have to cope with him until morning.

* * *

Saladin pushed up from his knees and folded his mat after his midday prayer. When he'd failed to hear from Cadmael and Fahim, he'd feared the worst. He'd hoped that ritual would settle his mind, but it had not accomplished that purpose. He'd moved to a small room near the mosque, expecting to give thanks when the mission was performed, and they could move on to higher works. Now he feared to return to his apartment.

He checked the newsfeed on his phone. There were no reports of the deaths of Richard Castle and Katherine Beckett. There was one of a dead body, as yet unidentified, but witnesses had claimed that the male victim looked Middle Eastern. His stomach clenched. Could it be Cadmael or Fahim? But even if their mission had resulted in one or both of their deaths, a detective like Beckett, would not have just left a body. Surely law enforcement would have trumpeted a triumph. The witnesses could have been wrong. Appearances were regularly mistaken through the ignorant eyes of westerners. He would put a message on the website and wait for his prayers to be answered.


	16. Chapter 16

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 16

Kate leaned on her desk and sighed. Castle put his hand on her arm. "Is it wearing you down to go through the motions of solving Vanderhock's murder until the DNA on the body my father dropped near the 54th comes back, and they realize that he's our perp?" he asked.

"That and I'm wondering when we're going to locate the last member of the terrorist cell."

"Kate, Jordan gave us the heads up about the sword - not that it ended up doing much good - but her people must still be following the money that's flowing to this guy too. They may not find anything as spectacular as the purchase of a Saracen scimitar, but the man's got to have food and a roof over his head. She may have withdrawn our protective unit, but we still should get with her."

"You're right, Castle," Kate acknowledged.

"And the sooner, the better," Castle added.

* * *

Jordan laid a printout on the Formica tabletop in the booth of the diner that had become her meeting place with Rick and Kate. "These are all the transactions for monies drawn from the Sand Storm account. Nothing jumped out at my guys."

Castle picked up the sheet of paper and quickly scanned it. "Here, The Clean Cart. That's a halal market. I know because I shopped there when I had some friends come to dinner who follow the laws. Their grandparents fled Iran after the CIA installed the Shah, but the family kept the customs. If the man's going to keep eating he's going to keep showing up. All we need to do is stake the place out."

Jordan shook her head, pursing her lips. "Castle, without a verified threat of a terrorist act, I don't have the people to do that. Staking out a shop that serves the Muslim community would be seen as profiling. And we don't even know what the man looks like."

"I know a way we might be able to find out," Castle replied.

"But Castle, even if we do," Kate protested, "how do I justify the use of my unit for surveillance, to Gates?"

Rick pressed a hand to her forehead. "Kate, you're burning up. It must be that summer flu that's going around."

"Castle, there's no summer flu going around," Kate argued.

"Then it's a winter flu that got a late start. But you're going to call in sick tomorrow. We can use my car to stake out The Clean Cart. Better still, we can rent something nondescript and take out the insurance - just in case we need it to shield us from a hail of bullets - to coin a phrase."

* * *

Jackson hesitantly transmitted a photograph of Saladin he'd begged from Director Haspel to his son. It was best that Richard and Kate knew who was after them, but Hunt hated the thought that they might be deliberately putting themselves in the terrorist's path. On the other hand, sitting in a car on a New York street watching a market didn't seem likely to be dangerous or even necessarily productive. There had been no sign of Saladin at his apartment. Chances were the man holed up somewhere with a full store of provisions. But just in case, Jackson would keep his eyes on things."

* * *

Saladin completed his prayers at sunset but found no peace. He'd received no response to his posting on the secret website. If Fahim or even Cadmael could have answered him, they would have. Sitting on the simple single bed in his room, he scanned every news story he could find. Finally, he discovered a police blotter blurb that a murder victim was suspected of committing a previous homicide. His worst fears were realized. His brothers in the struggle were gone. It was up to him to finish the battle.

He brought images of Richard Castle and Katherine Beckett to his screen, memorizing every detail. They would not be hard to find. They, notably Castle, ate at the most decadent restaurants and attended the most obscene movies and plays. And it was no secret that they both spent a great deal of time at the 12th Precinct. He could take up a position outside, as close as he could get. He had no idea what he would do if he saw them, but he had faith that something would come to him.

* * *

Castle yawned and took another sip of his third container of coffee. "Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all. There's been no sign of our guy, Saladin bin Salaam, as my father said he's called. Damn peaceful name for a terrorist."

"And John Wayne Gacy worked as Pogo the Clown. Monsters can be called anything. But Castle, even you don't shop for groceries every day. He might not show up today, or for a few days. But if I call in sick for too long, I'm going to need a doctor's note. If this doesn't pan out soon, we'll need another plan."

"I'm fresh out," Castle admitted. "If you do have to go back to the precinct, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be surrounded by all those men and women with heavy metal. Unless Saladin decides to go back to planting bombs."

"Castle, that's not what I need to hear right now."

"Sorry, just the writer in me going to the darkest scenario. Too much coffee. Without Abir to make explosives, I doubt Saladin would be able to assemble an explosive device. The precinct is probably as safe a place as we could find if we don't spot him before you make your recovery."

* * *

Concealed outside the 12th Precinct, Saladin listened intensely to the conversation of the two cops walking by. "I don't know, Javi. When has Kate ever called in sick - I mean except when she took a bullet to the heart? And even then, she came back early. Being home with the flu just isn't like her."

"She'll be OK man," Esposito assured his partner. "She always is. And she has Castle to play nurse. She's probably eating chicken soup and binging on movies. Gates just has us doing paperwork anyway until another body drops. I wouldn't mind feeling a little something coming on myself."

"Maybe we should go see her," Ryan proposed.

"Suit yourself, Bro. You want to go drop in on her, go ahead," Esposito allowed. "I don't need no real bugs. If I take a sick day, I want to enjoy it."

Ryan made his way to the subway, his mind focused on his blog and discussing the subtler points of portraying his latest acts of crime solving, with Castle. He paid no attention to the man who entered the turnstile behind him and took a seat in the same car.

* * *

Castle watched as the sign on The Clean Cart was turned from open to closed. "I guess that's it. You want to head home or go to dinner somewhere? There's a barbecue place a couple of blocks from here that isn't bad at all. There's a Chinese place not too far away, too. In the mood for almond duck?"

"Not really Castle. Let's go back to the loft. After a day of sitting in the car, I'm dying for a hot shower to get the kinks out."

"Sounds good. Perhaps we can massage out each other's stiffness under the stimulating spray. Save water, shower with a friend?"

Kate turned to him, smiling. "Sounds even better."


	17. Chapter 17

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 17

Castle checked the screen of his phone to see who was ringing his newly installed video doorbell. He and Kate were still in their robes, skins flushed from their exertions in the swirling vapors of the shower stall. He hurriedly pulled on a T-shirt and jeans. "Try to look sick," he cautioned Kate. "Ryan's at the door."

Castle pulled open the entrance to the loft. "Hey, Ryan."

"Hey, Castle. I just came to see how Beckett is doing. Jenny was worried."

"I think she's feeling more energetic now," Castle replied. "Come on in. I'll go get her."

Shoving her feet into fleecy mules, Kate went out to the great room to greet her visitor. "What's going on, Ryan?"

"Nothing, really, Beckett. Gates went on the warpath. She's expecting an inspection from the big shots at 1PP, and she wants to make sure the precinct looks good. We've all had to clear our desks and make sure there aren't any crumbs in the break room. She was giving the fisheye to Castle's chair too - and the elephants you keep on your desk."

"That chair is pretty worn," Castle admitted. "I could buy a new one for the precinct."

"Don't you dare, Babe," Kate protested. "It took me four years to get used to having you sit in that one."

"You're right," Castle conceded. "It is part of our history. But I don't know how the captain can look askance at your elephants when she keeps those scary dolls in her office." Castle shuddered. "Or did she take them home? I had to call in a lot of favors from collectibles dealers to replace the ones I broke in the interest of solving the murder of the Wonder Twins."

"Nope, still there," Ryan said. "When are you coming back, Kate? You are still looking a little feverish." He glanced at the ruddiness not yet faded from Rick's face. "So are you, Castle. Are you catching what Kate has?"

Castle shrugged. "You never know Ryan, but we wouldn't want to pass it on to you or the rest of our crime-busting comrades. Perhaps you should keep your distance until the danger is past."

"You're right Castle. I don't want to bring anything home, especially not to Sarah Grace."

"Thanks for coming, though, Ryan," Kate interjected. Tell Jenny I said hi."

"Will do," Ryan agreed, turning toward the door. "Hope I'll see you guys soon."

Kate started to giggle as soon as the door closed behind Ryan, "We looked feverish. I should have tried the hot shower trick as a kid when I wanted to get out of school."

Castle grinned. "Kate, I don't think the convincing color in our faces had as much to do with the shower as with the vigorous activities we pursued in the steamy enclosure."

Kate wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against the slightly moist fabric of his top. "You're probably right."

* * *

Saladin watched the pale-skinned cop leave 425 Broome Street. So now he knew where his quarries dwelt. It would not be easy getting to them in there. There was a doorman, and he had little doubt that the decadent apartments the building contained would be secured against invasion. It didn't matter. This was a much more accessible and safer place to watch than an edifice teeming with police officers. He would bide his time. The couple would leave eventually, and he would find his opportunity. He'd overheard the man he'd followed telling his friend that Katherine Beckett was ill. She would stay in for at least the day. His imam had some texts he could borrow. His forebears had time-honored ways of vanquishing evil. With some study, he could emulate their accomplishments.

* * *

Director Haspel skimmed Lilah's report on terrorist activity in New York City. It was quiet. Three out of four members of the cell that had attempted the bombing of Madison Square Garden was out of circulation - permanently. That left only Saladin bin Salaam, who seemed to spend much of his time on his knees. He appeared relatively harmless, but Hunt didn't agree. The old man had a point. Fanaticism could be an incredibly strong driver of violence, whatever deity the true believers invoked. Saladin had yet to make a threatening move, but it was just as well that Hunt was on the alert, however unofficially. There was another assignment for which he would be perfect, but she wasn't about to pull him out of New York yet.

* * *

Castle watched the proprietor of The Clean Cart turn the sign to closed at noon. "I should have remembered this place is only open half a day today. You want to go back to the loft for lunch?"

"I'd love one of the doubles from Remy's and one of their strawberry shakes, but I don't want anyone from the precinct to see me there."

"No problem," Castle replied. "I can drop you at the loft and then go get your desired repast. If any of your brothers in blue do take note of my presence, I am merely being the dutiful husband."

"That would be great, Castle. I can make a salad while you're gone."

"Spoiling a perfectly good hedonistic experience, but fine. At least if Alexis asks, I can assure her that I'm eating my greens."

* * *

From an alley across from evil's lair, Saladin watched Katherine Beckett greet the doorman and enter the lobby. He'd been hoping to spot both her and Richard Castle, but he had little doubt that the writer wouldn't be far behind. In any case, he had been hoping to see them exit rather than enter together. He'd spent a couple of hours studying ancient techniques for dealing with one's enemies and drawn inspiration from the clubs known as heathen-bashers which had been used by Sasanid soldiers. He could fashion something similar from a stout branch, and augment both his strength and height. The weapon would have the advantage of being easily obtainable without leaving a record. He had only to catch his prey in a place where he could use one. His mission was for the greater glory of his God, and he had faith that he would be permitted to complete it.

* * *

Castle rubbed his full belly in satisfaction. I'll say one thing for orders from Remy's. With or without your virtuously crafted salad, they fill all the holes, and then some."

"We could walk it off," Kate suggested. "It's a nice day; we could take one of the paths in the park."

"Good thought," Castle agreed. "And when we finish walking, I remember some great make-out spots, from my misspent youth."

"I know a few myself, Castle, of more recent vintage."

Castle's forehead furrowed. "Was that a comment on the years I've had to acquire wisdom, or should I be jealous?"

Kate laughed. "Neither one, Castle. But there is this place where the trees are really close together with a patch of grass in the middle just big enough to…"

"I know just the one you're talking about," Castle interjected. "And from the initials carved on some of those trees, I'd say that Cupid had quite a run behind the leafy curtains. How about we bring a blanket with us?"

"Good thought, Babe."

Saladin watched Beckett and Castle start down the sidewalk arm in arm. Perhaps the opportunity to earn his heavenly award had finally been allotted to him."


	18. Chapter 18

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 18

"You can't pull me off bin Salaam," Hunt protested.

"I'm sorry Jackson, I truly am," Director Haspel replied, "but there's more than just the lives of your son and daughter-in-law in play. There's a hit out on Chad's Ambassador to the U.N. Chad is our best defense against the terrorist buildup in Niger. You know what will happen if Zene is taken out. The special ops we have in Niger will lose all their support, and the village elders will buckle under completely. I had another agent on the assignment, but he 'fell' off a building. I need you. Rick can take care of himself. He has taken down at least two serial killers that I can recall, without your intervention. And his wife is the most capable homicide cop on the N.Y.P.D. They can survive for a day without needing you to ride to the rescue. Eliminate the threat to Chad, and you can get back to being your family's self-appointed one-man security force."

"I still don't like it," Hunt grunted.

"You don't have to like your job, Jackson," Haspel reminded him. "Just do it, and for the sake of the country and Castle and Beckett too, do it ASAP."

* * *

Kate and Rick ambled hand in hand along a cinder topped path, with trees towering over them on both sides. "I'd forgotten how nice it is just to do this," Kate said. "No cases, no paperwork."

"No getting yelled at by Captain Gates," Castle interjected. "I used to bring Alexis here in her stroller before she was old enough to demand the use of swings and slides. I was never sure if she was picking up anything from what I told her, but I'd point out stuff like the bark peeling from the sycamores and the spinners on the maples. Given how interested she is in science, I think she must have absorbed something. But when I started looking at the world more through CIA-trained eyes, I lost some of my appreciation for just enjoying it like this. Just being here with you has helped to bring it back. Thank you for that."

"I'm enjoying it too, Castle, but there's that grove we were talking about, up ahead."

Castle inclined his head toward the blanket draped over his arm. "Another reason I'm glad to be here with you."

* * *

Saladin moved from tree to tree. He'd noted the path Castle and Beckett were on and had confidence that he could locate them when he was ready. At that moment he had to find just the right branch to craft what he would use to finally bring them to their end. The ones within reach were too thin and too flexible. He needed to make sure that he could kill quickly with one blow. There was no alternative to climbing into the upper reaches of the leafy expanse that surrounded him. He couldn't recall climbing a tree since he was eight years old, and the results had required the application of medicine that stung worse than the scratches that had covered his arms and legs. He comforted himself that scaling one now would bring him that much closer to heaven.

* * *

Castle gazed at the clouds overhead as Kate snuggled into his chest. "I think the sky has decided to compete with Peter Jackson."

Kate twisted to look upward. "What do you mean, Castle?"

Rick pointed. "See that cloud with what looks like four scraggly limbs? That's Gollum. And those streamers forming a ring; that's his Precious. And over there that looks like a hobbit hole."

"Really, Castle, I don't believe you needed to hang out at the CIA to come up with material for Derrick Storm's adventures. Your fertile imagination would have been enough."

"I've thought a lot about that, Kate, since we found ourselves on Yousuf's yacht. I believe in research because it provides the details that make things come alive for the reader, but I don't think I should be doing that kind anymore. My father's work put Alexis in danger. And then my last mission put you in the crosshairs. I'm all for family traditions, but I think that it's about time to put an end to my adventures in spycraft. It's not just about you and me. What happens when we have children together? Someone could go after them like Volkov went after Alexis to get to my father. When bin Salaam is out of the picture, I want to cut ties with the company. The experience I've had and working with you in homicide will give me more than enough grist to grind out my novels." He propped himself on his elbows. "Maybe I'll make a stab at a screenplay. After the mess the Hollywood hacks made of Nikki Heat, the franchise could use some redemption. Perhaps I could get Jennifer Beals to play Clara Strike."

It would have to be an older version of Clara Strike," Kate pointed out. "Who would you cast as Derrick Storm?"

"Anyone but Jason Bateman, you know there was actually a picture of him on Page 6 that was identified as me. That's really getting old. I was thinking maybe the guy from that Joss Whedon… Oh! Did you hear that?"

"What, Castle?"

"There was a crack. I thought for a second it was gunfire, but I think it was just a branch breaking."

"The news said that some of the trees around here suffered wind damage during the last storm," Kate recalled. "That's probably all it was."

Castle settled back on the blanket. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

* * *

Saladin pushed himself up painfully from the ground. The branch he was on had failed to hold his weight, but his bruises would heal. He regarded the thick hunk of wood he'd clung to as he fell. It was precisely what he needed. With a knife drawn from the pocket of his trousers, he began to trim away the twigs that would interfere with delivering instantly fatal blows. He needed his weapon to be perfect. As the last soldier standing, he could not fail.

* * *

Rick and Kate hadn't meant to fall asleep, but with full stomachs and the warmth of the afternoon sun, they couldn't resist Morpheus's tug. When Saladin approached, they lay side by side within the dense circle of green-clothed timber. Saladin couldn't keep a groan from escaping from his lips as he squeezed between the trunks. The sound penetrated Castle's dream of floating among the clouds, and his eyelids reluctantly lifted. He nudged Kate. "I think someone is…"

Saladin broke through the living fence and lunged at the recumbent couple. Castle threw up his arms, forcing Saladin back. Kate sprang to her feet, aiming a kick at the attacker's head. As Saladin fell heavily to the ground, Castle straddled him, arm pulled back, ready to aim a punch at the man's jaw. Kate covered Rick's fist with her hand. No need to smash your knuckles, Babe. He's down for the count."

Castle pulled his belt from its loops to wrap around the unconscious man's wrists. "Let's just make sure he stays that way."

"At least his attempt to attack us justifies calling the N.Y.P.D.," Kate said.

"Except that you're supposed to be sick," Castle pointed out.

"You're right," Kate acknowledged. "We can call Jordan. I'm sure the FBI will have some interesting questions for him."

Castle grinned. "I'm sure they will."


	19. Chapter 19

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 19

Jackson observed a steady stream of tourists flowing to the U.N. That was situation normal. Every day visitors availed themselves of the tours and snatched up the exotic souvenirs in the gift shop. Hunt concentrated his attention on one man carrying an umbrella. There would have been nothing odd about that in London, but in New York, it hadn't rained in days, and the forecast was for a few clouds but an otherwise sunny afternoon. "The old ricin gag?" he muttered to himself.

It had been a long time since Georgi Markov had been assassinated that way, but if a quick takedown was unneeded or unwanted, it wasn't a bad method to terminate a threat. It was quiet, would go unnoticed by anyone nearby and the killer would be long gone before the victim expired. The trick would be to keep Umbrella Man from getting anywhere near Zene, who was due to exit the building any moment.

Using a gun in the crowd was out of the question, and there was a good chance a knife would be noticed as well. Jackson pulled a small foil pouch from his pocket and ripped it open. He affixed the adhesive patch inside to his palm, careful not to touch the active surface to his own skin. Grinning, he strode up to Umbrella Man and heartily grabbed his hand. "Buddy, I'm so glad I caught up with you. I was hoping we could take the tour together and then go get a drink."

The would-be assassin swayed, stumbling into Jackson, who easily supported his new friend's weight. "Looks like you got ahead of me on that one. I'll just take you for a Venti so you can sober up." Hunt led the woozy man away and shoved him into the back seat of a car. "You go ahead and fall asleep. We're going for a ride. I know some folks who will just love to have a word with you."

* * *

Saladin stared across the table at the cursed Kate Beckett and Richard Castle. He didn't recognize the woman who sat directly opposite him. "Who are you?"

"I'm FBI Special Agent Shaw, Mr. bin Salaam. Your case falls under our jurisdiction because you are involved with terrorism."

"It is not terrorism to punish those who have sinned against your God," Saladin protested. "I want to speak with my imam."

"Usually the suspects I question, ask for a lawyer," Jordan replied. "But in your case, you don't get to talk to anyone. Under the Patriot Act, you have no rights. We can hold you indefinitely with or without charges. Or you can tell us all about who is behind the very convenient funds you draw on from the Sand Storm account, and you might get a trial on attempted murder charges."

"With any luck, you might even see the light of the dawn and the sunset again someday when you make your prayers," Castle added.

"I answer to a higher law. I have done nothing against it, and I will say no more," Saladin insisted.

Jordan shrugged. "Fine. But I assure you that an interrogator from Homeland Security will not be as polite." She turned to Kate. "I believe you're acquainted with Agent Fallon. He can take this guy and coordinate with the other agencies."

Kate leaned toward Saladin. "I assure you that you will not enjoy the experience."

"Oh, I don't know, Beckett," Castle inserted. "Both our club-wielding friend here and Agent Fallon work hard at defending what they believe in - whatever it takes. They might understand each other."

Saladin flinched as Kate's hard gaze met his eyes. "The trouble is, Mr. bin Salaam that you and Agent Fallon believe in very different things. He believes only in protecting this country - from people like you. And he won't give a damn about any law you think is higher than that."

"Good luck," Castle added. "You'll need it."

* * *

Hunt's car alerted him to a text as he transported his hooded and unconscious prisoner to CIA headquarters. "Read it," he instructed the vehicle's computer system.

"Bin Salaam captured by Castle and Beckett. In Custody. H."

A grin spread over Jackson's face. "The boy really is a chip off the old block."

* * *

Castle opened his eyes after the best night's sleep he'd had since Gray had first approached him about being the CIA's eyes and ears aboard Yousuf's yacht. Kate stirred restlessly beside him. "You OK?"

Kate covered her mouth with her hand, bounded out of bed and ran toward the bathroom. Castle followed and lifted her hair away from her face as she hunched over the porcelain bowl. Finally, Kate stopped retching and pushed back to sit on the floor.

Castle dampened a washcloth and handed it to her. He felt her head. "No fever. We both ate the same things last night, and I feel fine, so it's not likely to be food poisoning. Could you be…? Your pills were in the luggage that we lost on Yousuf's yacht, weren't they? And you never got them replaced when we got to Hawaii."

"I don't know Castle. But I feel OK now. And we need to get to the precinct. We can pick up a test later."

"If that's what you want to do," Castle agreed. "But until we find out, I'm making decaf for you."

Kate took the hand Castle offered and stood up. She reached for her toothbrush. "Castle you don't need to make me any coffee at all. I don't think I could stand the smell of it this morning."

"All right," Castle responded, taking a deep breath. Meredith hadn't been able to stand the smell of coffee either in the first months of her pregnancy with Alexis. He had a feeling that Kate's test would not reveal anything he didn't already suspect. And he would have to make a call, sooner rather than later.

* * *

Captain Gates yelled across the bullpen for all the detectives to come to the conference room for a newly instituted weekly meeting. Kate brushed Castle's hand. "She'll probably let you come, Babe. You are my partner."

"In every way possible," Castle agreed. "But no, you go ahead. I have a meeting of my own. I don't think it will take long. I should be back before your shift is over."

* * *

Castle slid into the high walled restaurant booth where Agent Gray waited. "You're not going to talk me into anything," he warned.

"I don't have to," Gray stated mildly. "You know that no one really leaves the CIA, Rick. You can be inactive. I'd say you could be off the payroll - except that you were never on it. But you know what you know about the world and the way it works. There's no getting away from that, whether you ever accept another mission or not. And it is in your blood."

"You don't have to remind me of that," Castle retorted. "But the dynasty is going to stop right here. I will be accepting no more assignments. If my father wants to try to keep saving the world, that's his choice. But I have a world I've built here, and it may be about to get bigger. That's the only one I'm interested in saving right now."

Walking away will mean the end of all those juicy little details you gather to make Storm the best-selling spy he is," Gray warned.

"You know," Castle replied, "I can deal with that."


	20. Chapter 20

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 20

Black Pawn had been insistent that Castle could not kill off Derrick Storm again. He could be taken out of the picture for a while, but his death would pour cold water on graphic novel sales and other merchandising. Rick had no problem with that. He decided that since Storm had gone to so many pains and donated so much money to support an orphanage, his adoption of a child would be a logical next step and the perfect reason to cease taking field assignments. Rick admitted to himself that it was a bit of a steal from the excuse that had been used for Geiger leaving Chicago Hope when Mandy Patinkin decided to depart from the show - but he was doing it in a very different way. He often thought that spending more time with their families was a lame excuse given by disgraced politicians who resigned from office to avoid getting kicked out, but in this case, he felt the reasons he'd be giving to Storm were sincere.

He'd struggled with his choice of whether Storm's child should be a boy or a girl. He had more than enough anecdotes at hand from raising Alexis if he ever wanted to write adventures about Derrick and daughter. But he also had more than enough material from his boyhood to write about a son. He could not only encompass his personal experience but that of all the boys with whom he'd shared rooms and classes at boarding school. Given that aside from what happened in Paris, Alexis's existence was more privileged than most, he decided to go with a boy. Martha had done the best she could when Rick was growing up, but he had never been swimming in cash the way many of his classmates were. He had been lonely, scared, and on the outs much of the time. Those were characteristics that could challenge Storm as he built his new family. Rick liked the idea. It might even lend itself to books for younger readers. Many of them were already hooked on the graphic novels. Books would allow for more depth.

Rick pushed save and closed his laptop with satisfaction on finishing a chapter. Later he could work on his screenplay. He checked his watch. Kate had been taking a nap while he worked. She'd stayed on the job to the last minute the N.Y.P.D. would let her, even if she had been safely behind a desk for much of that time. Since she'd been home, she'd been nesting, but as her girth expanded it had become harder for her to stay on her feet for long periods of time. She wouldn't have to carry their offspring much longer. What would most likely be her last appointment with her OB was in an hour. She had enough of a built-in time sense that she usually awakened on her own, but if she were still drowsing, he would rouse her. Early in their marriage, he'd learned to do that carefully, to avoid defensive moves that arose from battles fought amid dreams of her conflicts with evil. She was less spontaneously combative now, but he still stood back a bit when he whispered her name.

Kate came to awareness slowly, rubbing her eyes and laying her hand on what was much larger than a bump. "What time is it?"

"Three-thirty. We need to get going soon if we're going to make it through the traffic."

Kate accepted the hand he offered, to pull herself up. "I'll be ready in a few minutes. I just have to pee."

Castle resisted noting that her need to pee was a given. He'd memorized every restroom in the area from when Alexis was little but had added to the inventory as Kate's pregnancy had progressed. At least the trip to the doctor's office would not be long, only a few miles, but in rush hour a drive that distance would be accomplished in anything but a rush.

Kate rubbed the small of her back before settling into the leather passenger seat of Castle's car. It was a new one he'd bought after studying the safety tests of every model on the road. He'd settled on a Genesis G80, which topped all the ratings. It wasn't the flashiest luxury car, but there was more than enough room for baby paraphernalia. Usually, Kate found her seat as comfortable as any seat could be for her, but at that moment, she wanted the trip to go as quickly as possible.

* * *

The waiting room was full, and even though the furnishings were chosen for the comfort of pregnant women, Kate constantly shifted, trying to find a position that would work. The smiling assistant finally called her in. With no ultrasound planned for him to watch, Castle stayed behind to wait for her.

Dr. Kalisha noted the strain on Kate's face, concern shadowing her exotic features. "How are you feeling today?"

"Tired, and my back hurts," Kate admitted.

"Any contractions?" Kalisha asked.

"Nothing much."

"Well let's take a look," Kalisha suggested.

"What's wrong?" Kate asked, seeing Kalisha's expression at her first view of the situation.

"Kate you're already four centimeters dilated. You've been having back labor. I want you in the hospital, now. Did Rick bring you?"

Kate nodded.

"I'm going to tell him to move his butt and get you over there. I think you have at least a few hours yet until the baby comes, maybe more. But I'll meet you there as soon as I can."

* * *

Martha rushed into the room with Alexis close behind her. "I kept trying to reach Mr. Beckett," Alexis reported, but his voicemail kept saying he's in court. I left messages."

"He should be out any second," Castle offered, squeezing Kate's hand. "Don't most judges call time at 5 o'clock?"

"Not if they're in the middle of something that would be influenced by an adjournment or if they're meeting with the attornies in chambers," Kate said. "But thanks, Alexis. I'm sure he'll be here as soon as he gets a look at his phone. The nurse just checked and said I have a few more centimeters to go yet."

Martha shook her head. "Those last few can take forever, or perhaps Richard was just stubborn."

"I resemble that remark!" Rick quipped. "But listen. It is probably going to be a while, and there are some things I want to talk to Kate about, so maybe you and Alexis can take advantage of the fancy coffee cart I saw in the lobby."

Alexis pulled at Martha's sleeve. "Let's go, Gram. I can use a latte."

"I'd prefer red wine," Martha said, "but we'll see you two kids in a little while."

"Castle, what did you want to talk about?" Kate queried.

"I got a call from Agent Gray while you were asleep. He said that Homeland Security had coordinated pooling the information the FBI and the CIA gathered on Saladin bin Salaam and his merry band. They'd traced the entire money chain back to Yemen. Our people threw in with the Saudis - you know how they feel about Yemen - and the operation was wiped out. There's still plenty of ISIL out there, especially in Iraq, but the offshoot that had anything to do with us is gone. Much as I would normally hate announcing such a thing, we're total nobodies again. No hint of a fatwa. We're not even on the radar."

"Good to know, especially today," Kate said. "Heard anything from your father?"

"Not a word since his one line of congratulations when we bagged Saladin."

"I don't think we would have made it here without him," Kate admitted. "I hope he's all right."

"Yeah," Castle agreed. "Me too."


	21. Chapter 21

Eye of the Storm

Chapter 21

Jackson Hunt had been on the ground in New York State for about an hour before receiving the text from Richard. His isolation surveilling operations in Niger for the better part of the last nine months had been almost complete, permitting communication with his handler by satellite phone, but only at infrequent and agreed upon intervals. When he'd finally been rotated out, he'd slept through most of his journey on the transports back to the states, the most reasonable thing to do when his ass was suspended in netting. When he landed in Newburgh, he wanted little more than a shower and a good meal that didn't come out of a hermetically sealed, mil-standard approved pouch. The secure cell phone the supply master handed him, contained all his regular contacts, classified and otherwise.

He stared at the message that dinged as soon as he activated the device. Sonofabitch! He hadn't even known Kate was pregnant. He'd received word that there were no further threats to his family, and he'd had to work damn hard to get that, but there was nothing else. The trip to the city would take about two hours - less if he pushed it. He would just have to requisition some transportation. He'd had dealings with the sergeant who ran the motor pool before. The man had a weakness for poker and couldn't read a bluff if his life depended on it. He was sure the sergeant could use a few extra bucks, and one thing a good intelligence asset always accessed was cash. He'd obtained a fat wad of it before the last leg of his flight. He'd have wheels within a half-hour.

* * *

Jim Beckett stole a glance at his watch. It was smaller than his old one, which was a permanent fixture on Kate's wrist, but the numerals were easily readable, even for well-over-fifty eyes. It was six-o'clock and opposing counsel was still droning on. When he'd requested a meeting in chambers, Jim had hoped for a quick motion. But his adversary had apparently sensed Judge Lowry's reticence and was citing every remotely relevant reference back to the Civil War. Lowry looked both bored and hungry. That was a good sign. Jim wanted to get out of there.

He knew it was still a week short of Katie's delivery date, but his little girl had been in a hurry. He and Johanna had barely made it to the hospital. If his grandchildren followed suit… He'd be glad when he was no longer under the judge's prohibition against turning on his phone, and he could make sure labor was not in progress.

* * *

Castle sipped the 20-ounce coffee Alexis had brought him. It was decaf, but there was no chance he would be anything but wide-awake. Medication had eased Kate's pain, but she could still feel pressure. They both could, and no one was offering him any sedation. Not that he'd take it if they did. He wanted to live every minute of the experience.

When Alexis had been born, he'd had no idea how he'd react. He'd gone through the classes with Meredith, just as he had with Kate, but it had all had a feeling of unreality. He couldn't really believe that he was about to become a father until the tiny bundle had been placed in his arms. Then he couldn't imagine being anything else.

It would be different this time. Kate had no intention of flying off and leaving him with all the diapers and the midnight feedings. As much as he loved his daughter and enjoyed taking care of her, he'd spent months in a state of total exhaustion. While wise parents slept when their babies did, at least during the first few weeks, he'd pried his eyes open to meet Black Pawn's deadlines. Between blowing the profits of "In a Hail of Bullets" and Meredith's addiction to the use of his credit cards, he had to make sure the income would keep flowing for both him and Alexis. His daughter would have everything he missed - and then some.

He was more secure now. Not only did he have books in the pipeline, as well as his investments and property, but he also had a life partner in whom he had total confidence. It was true that he was a lot better with poop and snuggles than Kate was, but she'd shown her willingness to do her share. The N.Y.P.D. allowed maternity leave, and after that, they'd work it out.

The important thing now was that his family would come out of the birth experience healthy. So far, things looked OK. Kate's blood pressure had crept up a little but not to dangerous levels, and there were no signs of fetal distress. Dr. Kalisha had pronounced her at nine centimeters. There was not far to go.

* * *

Jim turned on his phone the minute he exited Lowry's chambers and immediately ran to the elevator. It seemed forever before he was able to catch a cab, but he left no doubt with the driver that the size of his tip would depend on the speed of the trip. The taxi peeled away from the curb.

* * *

Jackson cursed the construction that had limited the speed on FDR Drive. His trip down the highway had taken less time than his crawl through city traffic. But he was not far from the hospital, now. If the piece of junk the sergeant had claimed was the only vehicle he could spare, would hold up, he'd make it.

* * *

Rick slipped into the sterile gown the nurse offered him before he took his place in the delivery room. He and Kate had been breathing in tandem while she had been wheeled there, and he still kept up the rhythm. He took his place to lend support and encouragement while she pushed, but with the strength she had taken so much care to instill in her muscles, it didn't take much. "Your daughter is out," Dr. Kalisha announced, before placing her on Kate's chest and encouraging Castle to cut the cord.

"Hi Ruth," Castle greeted the infant whom he and Kate had agreed to name after her idol, a Supreme Court Justice. The nurses took the baby for cleaning and wrapping.

"One more," Kalisha proclaimed. "Keep pushing, Kate."

"Come on, Stephen," Castle urged his emerging son. "Do your namesake, the world's most badass TV writer, proud."

"He looks perfect," Kalisha assessed as an immediately squalling boy protested leaving the safety of the womb.

Kalisha smiled. "No worries about those lungs. Looks like Apgars will be good on both of them. The pediatrician will check them out upstairs while I make sure everything is right with you and then you can all have your family reunion."

Castle leaned down to kiss Kate's lips. "Best delivery ever!"

* * *

Jim Beckett strode along the corridor to the nursery to view his grandchildren. He'd been told that they'd be brought to Katie's room very shortly, but he couldn't wait. He stared down at the two babies tagged Castle. Other than Johanna and Katie, he'd never seen anyone more beautiful. He noted the tall white-haired man who stood nearby, looking intensely at the twins. He was sure he'd never seen him before, but there was something familiar about him. "I'm Jim Beckett, their grandfather. Are you a relative of Rick's?"

The man nodded and offered his hand for Jim to shake. "I've been out of town on business. I just wanted to make sure the kids were OK. I can see that everything is under control. I'll see you again some time. Jackson's long legs quickly carried him toward the elevator and his next mission.

Finis

A/N I hope you enjoyed this. Now for something different. If you've been following my stories for the past few years, you know that I occasionally write from the viewpoint of a character other than Rick and Kate, my favorite being Jim Beckett. I'll be doing that again, starting with the time immediately after Kate and Rick are shot by Caleb Brown in "Crossfire." That will be in a different universe than my future history was in "Life Goes On." We'll see what happens in "After the Fall." Until tomorrow, love Sally


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